


Like the Strike Never Happened

by SomedayBecomesSomehow, TotallyNot



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: ACCCCKKKKKKKKK, Background Relationships, Does anyone actually read the tags, GUYS, Gay, Gen, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Poor, Roleplay, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow To Update, You Will Be Found, also, and crying, head - Freeform, im watching the deh animatic, is - Freeform, omg, spinning, sprace, the strike
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-24 05:28:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 23,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17698529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomedayBecomesSomehow/pseuds/SomedayBecomesSomehow, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TotallyNot/pseuds/TotallyNot
Summary: Spot Conlon, fearless leader of Brooklyn, would never -could never- fall in love, right?~~~(Another) RP between me (TotallyNot) and my bestie (SomedayBecomesSomehow). This is a canon era Sprace fic. Slow updatessssss. I am HU, and SomedayBecomesSomehow is AH.





	1. Chapter 1

AH: Race collected a few coins from a passerby as he sold his last pape. “Thanks, sir.” He pocketed the change and fished through his bag for a cigar. He popped it into his mouth and started to head down the street.

HU: Spot Conlon hated going to Manhattan. He wasn’t in charge there, even if he was respected. The streets were unfamiliar, and he didn’t have a clue about how things worked there. But here he was, at ten past nine, walking through the streets of Manhattan, in the dark.

AH: Race turned a corner and passed a flickering street light, glancing up at the sky for a moment. The sky was clear, and Race decided that it was a good night to sleep on the rooftop. He entered a dark alleyway where the ladder was to get to the rooftop. He knew that anyone could pop out and attack, so Race balled his fists up and peered through the darkness, trying to see if anyone was watching him.

HU: _‘Fuck Jack Kelly. Fuck him. Fuck Manhattan, and fuck Queens’_ , was Spot’s train of thought. He shook his head as he walked through the streets, and then paused, when he saw a figure in front of him. The figure was tall, and standing straight, so Spot was immediately more confident. This could be a customer. He walked up to the man, and tapped his shoulder.

AH: Race whipped around and instinctively punched the person in the gut. “Get the hell away from me!”

HU: Spot didn’t stagger, didn’t falter. “Not a customer, huh?” Spot said, putting his paper back in his bag.

AH: Race shook his head. “I ain’t no customer. You’s a newsboy?”

HU: Spot grinned at how naive the boy was. “Kid, i ain’t just a newsie. Y’ever heard’a the King of Brooklyn?”

AH: Race laughed. “Sure, I’s heard of him. Didn’t think Spot Conlon would be roamin’ outside his terf, ‘specially in Manhattan. What’cha here for, eh?”

HU: “It ain’t none of ya business, ‘Hattan.” Spot looked around for a moment, then lowered his voice. “You know Kelly, right? Manhattan leader?”

AH: “Of course, I’s work with him.” Race whispered.

HU: “...” Spot cursed himself for getting lost in Manhattan. “Can you lead me the way to him?”

AH: “Sure.” Race stepped out of the alleyway and the street light revealed that Spot’s head was up to his nose. He was pretty short, and Race felt a little awkward that he was towering over him. “This way.”

HU: “Thanks ‘Hattan,” he said, then proceeded to walk in silence the rest of the way.

AH: Jack was leaning against the side of a building, talking with a few of the newsies.

Race walked over and Jack silenced, the newsies looking at them. “Hey, Race.”

“Conlon’s here ta speak wit ya.” Race gestured to Spot.

HU: Spot spit on his hand, and Jack followed, then they shook. “Evenin’ Kelly.”

“Hey Conlon. How’s Brooklyn?”

“Let’s skip the pleasantries, Kelly.”

Jack raised his eyebrows at Spot. “Alright, Conlon. What’re ya doin’ in Manhattan?”

Spot inhaled. “Brooklyn’s been havin’ problems with Queens.”

“Not my fault, Conlon.”

“Yeah, I know. But Sling, he spoke to Harlem and Richmond. And they’s not too happy. They’s getting people to join ‘em. Brooklyn’s got Bronx, but our relationship with ‘em ain’t too great right now. So… Will ya join us?”

It was silent for a moment, the air thick with tension.

“I dunno Conlon. Queens and us has been good for a while.”

Spot fumed. “So's has we.”

“Can’t we just stay neutral?” a newsie asked from behind Jack. Spot shot him a glare.

“Shh, Buttons,” Jack said, turning around briefly.

“... Listen, Kelly, you do this for me… Well, you’s got a lotta boys here, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Some can sell on my turf during weekdays, and i’ll let a few stay in Brooklyn or pay their stay for a month. You choose the boys, and I’ll do it.” There was a pause, and the newsies looked around uncomfortably. “So?”

“Deal,” Jack said, spitting into his hand.

Spot spat, they shook, and a few newsies cheered quietly.

“Wanna stay for a while?” Jack asked.

Spot shook his head. “Naw, gotta go check on my boys. They’s all gotten sick.”

“Alright. See ya later, Conlon.”

“Thanks Kelly,” Spot said, turning to go back to Brooklyn; to his boys.

AH: Race watched Spot disappear behind a corner and looked at Jack. “So? Who's you’s gonna choose?”

The newsies murmured agreement.

HU: “I dunno. I’ll probably go with some of the younger newsies. No offense, Race. They can’t get the money as easy, and you know the Delancey’s are bound to steal from them. Maybe Sink, Frame, and Mouse,” Jack said, listing off the names of their newest recruits.

AH: “Yeah, I’s agree.” Race said around his cigar. “We’ll hold the terf down when you’s gone.”

HU: “Naw, I’s will tell him in tha morning. Too late now. But… Race?”

AH: “Yeah?”

HU: “This ain’t gonna end well, y’know that, right? I means… We’s is against Queens, and I know Brooklyn’s powerful, but there’s no way this ain’t ending in a fight. If… If something happens… I mean, you know you’re my right hand man, right?”

AH: “Of course. Nothing will happen to ya, Jack.”

HU: “But if somethin’ does… I mean, I don’t wanna go back to the Refuge, but it’s worth it to keep everyone else out. But I can count on you, to hold things up ‘round here if worst comes to worst, right?”

AH: “Yeah, Jackie. I’ll hold things up. You’s don’t have ta worry.” Race grinned.

HU: Jack grinned, and patted Race on the back. “Thanks Racer. I knew I could count on you.”

AH: “Well anyways, good night, Jack.” Race nodded, twisting his cigar.

HU: “Night Race,” Jack said, before entering the lodging house, checking up on the younger newsies before climbing the fire escape to get up to the roof and see Crutchie.

AH: Race headed back to the alleyway and climbed up the ladder and sat on the edge of the roof, letting his legs dangle. He never expected Brooklyn to come to Manhattan asking for help, and he didn’t think the King of Brooklyn was that cute. Race stopped his train of thought, and took out his cigar and tossed it. He shouldn’t be thinking like that, and he didn’t want to imagine what the newsies would think of him if he mentioned it. Race slid onto the roof and laid down, adjusted his hat, and let himself slip into sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

HU: When Spot woke up that morning, he had a stuffed up nose and a sore throat.  _ ‘Crap,’  _ he thought, as he slid off his mattress. “Hey Sling?” He called, as he walked out of his small room. Slingshot, who slept in the bunk closest to Spot’s door, rolled over. Spot climbed the little ladder to the top bunk, and laid his arms on Slingshot’s mattress. “Sling. Up.”

“Boss, five more minutes?”

“Sling, you sound like hell.”

“You don’t sound too great, either, boss,” Slingshot said, rolling over to face the wall. 

“I know. I need your help gettin’ everyone up,” Spot said, glaring at Slingshot’s back.

Sling must’ve felt the glare, because he turned back around to face Spot. He pulled his pillow -though it was so limp and flat that it probably couldn’t be described as such- over his head. “Don’t wanna.”

Spot poked Slingshot in the arm. “Sling. You gets the boys, or you’s gets the littles. And if ya keep sleeping, i’m putting you on little duty.”

Slingshot sat up straight, facing Spot with a terrified expression. “Not the littles,” he whispered, before pushing Spot off the ladder and jumping out of bed. Not two minutes later, all the newsboys were awake and getting dressed. 

Spot walked into the second room, where all the under-11 year-olds were sleeping. Spot went over to them all individually, waking them up gently. When he got to Window, a new eight year old, he stopped. Window was sick, just like five other newsboys, including Spot. But Window was the worst. Window was visibly unwell. He had a runny nose, he was sweating, and he took a while to wake up. “Window.” Spot said, softly, poking him lightly. “Win, you’s gotta wake up.”

Window moaned. “I don’t feel good, Spot.”

“I know, me neither,” Spot said, placing a hand on Window’s forehead. “You’s got a fever.”

“I do?”

“Yeah,”Spot said, mentally cursing the kid from Queens from getting sick and passing it on. “Can ya tell me what else is wrong?”

“I’s got… A sore head. And a throatache.”

“Headache, sore throat,” Spot corrected lightly. 

Window nodded. “And my nose feels funny, and i- I don’t feel good.”   


“I know,” Spot said, standing back up. “You ain’t selling today.”   


“But I wanna!” Window protested, sitting up. But he coughed, sharp and loud, and sank back into the mattress miserably.

“Don’t worry, i’ll pay for your stay this week. If your cold keeps up, we can go see if we can get some stuff to make you feel better, alright?” 

“Alright. Thanks, Spot,” Window said, weakly.

“No problem. Get some rest, kiddo.” Spot exited the room, and walked out of the lodging house, before heading to the circulation gate. He bought 120 papers, extra to pay for Window’s stay at the lodging house. 

AH: Race blinked open his eyes to the sun shining in his face. It took him a few moments to realize that he missed the circulation bell and he sat up abruptly. He hissed, his lower back in pain. Race bet it was the concrete, and he regretted his stay on the roof.

Race hopped off the ladder and ran to the circulation gate, and saw Wiesel packing up the newspapers.

“Wait!” Race panted, leaning over the counter, to Wiesel’s disgust.

“Stop sweatin’ over my papes, boy.” Wiesel hissed.

“At least spot me a hundred papes, and I’ll be outta ya way.” Race said around his cigar.

“Fine.” Wiesel handed him the papes and Race put down the coins on the metal box and he headed off.

HU: Spot made his way to the docks, where he saw one of his regulars, Mr. Michael Smith, standing, looking at a small book. “Good morning, Mr. Smith,” Spot said, pulling out a paper. “Can I interest you in a paper? They found bodies in the river, you know.”

Mr. Smith pulled out a few coins. “Why all the papers?”

“Well, sir, we’s got a few sick boys. They can’t sell for a few days, so we’re all pitching in to pay for their stay at the boy’s house.”

“Ah,” Mr. Smith said, handing over the coins. “Thank you, son,” Mr. Smith said, walking off.    


“Anytime, Mr. Smith,” Spot said, looking down at the pennies, before putting them in his pocket. But he did a double-take when he saw the color of the coins. They weren’t pennies. In his hand sat two shiney 50¢ pieces. He stood there, shocked. This was so much more than necessary. This would be enough to pay for the stay of one newsboy for a week. He put the coins in his shoe, so that they couldn’t be stolen or fall out. 

The day dragged on, Spot selling all of his papers. By four in  the evening, his newsboy bag was empty, but his pockets were full. 

AH: Race had two papes left, and he walked past Jacobi’s and an old man came out.

“Hey mister, can I interest ya in the lastest news? There’s been a real big fire at a warehouse, an’ many people died, sir.” Race shook his head. “It isn’t good.”

“Give me a pape.” He muttered gruffly, and Race handed him a paper. He dropped a few coins in his hand and Race thanked him.

Race sold his last pape to a regular and found an abandoned area and stood next to a dumpster. He took out his coins and counted his earnings, pleased with his amount. 

HU: Spot walked onto the Brooklyn bridge, sitting down halfway to Manhattan, before pulling out the coins he had. He tried to do the math. Two cents per paper, and 120 papers… He should have… $2.40 But he counted , to make sure his math was correct. When he added up the total, there was four dollars. He inhaled sharply, before counting again to double check. $4.00. Far more than he needed. He shoved the money into the bottom of his bag, and clutched his bag tightly before walking across the bridge to Manhattan. He could buy so much food for the boys, and he had been told by Jack that the sandwiches at Jacobi’s were the best. So he headed across the bridge, into Manhattan, for the second time in twenty-four hours.

AH: Race walked over to Jacobi’s and pushed open the door and sat down at a table. Jacobi came over to him and grinned. “Evenin’ Race. What can I get you?”

“Water, please.”

“That’s all?”   


“Actually, a sandwich as well. Whateva’ ya got left, I don’t have a preference.”

“Sure thing.”

HU: Spot walked into Jacobi’s, sitting down at one of the tables, waiting for a moment for the waiter to come. Eventually, a man came over to Spot. “What can I get you?”

“Yeah,” Spot said, looking over the menu. “How much would thirteen sandwiches cost?”

The waiter looked at Spot in disbelief. “You’re not serious.”    


“And what if I say I am?”

“That’s 65 cents.”

“Alright. I’ll take thirteen of your finest sandwiches, please.”

“What, you feeding an army?”

“No, just some poor newsboys.”

The waiter walked away, perplexed.

AH: Race nibbled on the end of his cigar, and looked at the door. Spot was here, and was ordering. Jacobi looked completely perplexed, and he soon walked away. Race wanted to invite Spot over, but who calls out the King of Brooklyn?

HU: Spot felt eyes on him, and turned around, only to see the kid from the previous night staring at him. “Got something to say, ‘Hattan?”

AH: Race’s natural charisma took over him and his nerves. He grinned. “Sure I do. Wanna sit with me?”

HU: Spot looked around the diner. “And why would I do that, ‘Hattan? I don’t even know your name.”

AH: “Then you’s better get over here then. And I’m sure this place wants ta know what the King of Brooklyn has ta say.” Race leaned back in his chair.

HU: “Fine, ‘Hattan,” Spot said, standing up, walking to Race’s  table, and sitting on it. “I’s here.”

AH: “Good for ya. The name’s Racetrack Higgin’s, Race for short.” Race smiled around his cigar and stuck his hand out for Spot to shake.

HU: Now, Spot wasn’t one to question names (His was  _ Spot  _ for god’s sake.), but this one was ridiculous. Spot shook Race’s hand. “There’s no way that’s your real name. How’d you get it?” Spot asked.

AH: “You’re one to talk. I’s got my name from the newsies. I was runnin’ away from my pa who was drunk as hell and was beatin’ me up. And I was real fast, they said, like a racer. So they calledme Race and took me in as a newsboy. How’d you get yours?” Race asked as he held his cigar between his fingers.   


HU: Spot shook his head when he heard Race’s story. “When I got here, I’s had all these bruises, on my back. One of the younger boys thought they looked like spots, hence the name.”

AH: “Ah. I’m sorry ‘bout that, Spot. If ya don’t mind my asking, do ya know where ya got the spots?” 

HU: Spot knew, but he didn’t want to tell this complete stranger. “No,” he lied, voice harsh. “They were just there.”

AH: “Your sandwich.” Jacobi handed Race the sandwich and in return he placed a nickel in Jacobi’s hand. 

“Thanks.”   


“And your thirteen sandwiches will take a few more minutes.” Jacobi nodded to Spot and walked away.

HU: Spot nodded, grinning. “Thanks.”

AH: “You’s feeding the newsies?” Race asked, who had already put the pieces together.

HU: Spot scowled. “Yeah, why?”

AH: “Nothin’, nothing at all. I hope they’s get better soon. Those kids gotta make it.” Race gave a crooked smile.

HU: “Yeah,” Spot said, looking down. “Thanks.”

AH: “No problem. Well, I’s gotta get goin’. It was nice talkin’ to ya, Spot.” Race stood up, taking the sandwich with him.

HU: Spot nodded, and ten minutes later, Jacobi came back with a box, containing 13 sandwiches. “Pay up,” Jacobi said, handing Spot the box. Spot handed Jacobi the 65¢, and then headed out. When Spot got back to the lodging house, he set the box down on the floor of the bedroom. The newsies were being loud and rowdy, so Spot stood there for a moment. Eventually, they noticed him, and fell silent. Silent, that is, until Slingshot walked up to the box, and looked down. His eyes widened. 

“W-Where?” He spluttered, gesturing to the box. “Are these stolen?”

At those words, there was a scramble, a mad dash to get to the box.

Spot shook his head. “I made a lot today,” he said, grinning. He reached into the box. “Alright. Everyone gets half a sandwich, no exceptions. We’s gotta share with the littles, so don’t take more than half.” He glared all the newsboys down, before tossing a sandwich to Slingshot, who tore it in half and gave part to Planter. After a few minutes, there were six sandwiches left, enough so that all the littles could have half, and Spot could have half. Spot walked into the next room, and dispensed the sandwiches to the littles.

AH: Race sat on his bed in the lodging house, eating his sandwich. The newsies were chatting and goofing off in a circle.

“Aw, shut up Mush!”

“Nah, you shut up!”

“You’s sound like an old couple. How sweet!”

“Keep yer mouth shut!”

Race stifled a laugh and finished, sticking a cigar in his mouth. He wondered if Spot and his newsies were doing alright. The next day Jack and the kids would go work in Brooklyn for the weekend, and so Race would be in charge. He was a little nervous, but Race knew nothing could throw him off.


	3. Chapter 3

HU: The next morning, Spot got up and surveyed himself in the (stolen) mirror on the wall. He looked like shit. But he shrugged it off, and woke everyone up. Almost all of the littles were feeling better than the previous day, but Window was still a cause for alarm. His forehead was mighty hot, and he looked worse than the previous day, if possible. Spot groaned. Another day of extra papers. The longer Window was sick, the harder it would get to pay for him. Of course, Window didn’t want to be seen as a charity case. 

“Spot,” he said, coughing. “I’s is fine. I can sell.”

“No,” Spot said, pushing Window back down into the pillows. “You can’t. Window, if ya try to sell, you’s’ll just make things worse. Now, I know you’s was bored yesterday, but… You’s knows how to read, right?”

Window nodded. 

“How’s about I get you’s a book from the library? One with lotsa pit’chures?”

“Thanks Spot,” Window said, weakly. 

“No problem, kid.” Spot said, standing up. He said goodbye to Window, then made his way to the circulation gate, before buying his papers. He walked halfway across the Brooklyn Bridge, to where he was supposed to meet the guys from Manhattan.

AH: Jack led the newsies from the lodging house and out onto the street, Race following. He turned to Race, adjusting his hat.

“You’s take good care of the newsies, Racetrack.” Jack nodded.

“I will.” Race squatted down to look at a kid in the eye. “You’s be careful over there.”

Smalls grinned. “Nothin’ will happen to us! I’ll makes sure of it!”

Race laughed and ruffled the kid’s hair. “I’m sure you will.”

Jack waved, the little kids following his lead to the bridge.

HU: Spot made his way to the halfway point on the bridge, where he saw Jack Kelly and a group of four little kids. 

“Mornin’ Kelly,” Spot said, spitting on his hand for Jack to shake. “Who’re all these?”

Jack smiled. “These is your new Brooklyn newsies.”

“So you decided to have ‘em live here instead of rent for a month? I’s is shocked. Never woulda thought you’d give up some of your precious newsies.”

“Hey, they’s sleeping on the floor over in ‘Hattan,” Jack said, lightly, but not joking. “I know there’s more space in Brooklyn.” 

“Yeah, i’s gets it,” Spot said. “So, Kelly, you’s gonna introduce everyone?”

Jack gestured to the smallest. “This here is Smalls.”

“Hey little guy,” Spot said, leaning down. 

“I ain’t a boy!” Smalls said, pulling off her hat. Long brown locks of hair tumbled out of her hat. 

“Oooh, well then. You’s must be pretty tough, huh?”

“What’dya mean?” Smalls asked, glaring at Spot. 

“I mean, you’s pretty tough to be the only girl from Manhattan, huh?”

Smalls took a second, but grinned and nodded. “I’s is the toughest newsgirl ever!” 

Spot ginned. “Atta spirit. Who are you?” He asked the kid with the bright blonde hair. 

“I’s is Mouse.” He stuck his hand out, and Spot shook it. 

“Nice ta meet ya, Mouse. Where’d the name come from?”

Mouse opened up his pocket of his vest, revealing a little mouse. It was tiny, and cute. “He’s my pet. His name is Human.”

Spot grinned. This was a boy he was gonna get along with. “Well then, who are you?” He asked the tallest.

“I’m Sink,” he declared, proudly, puffing up his chest. 

“Huh. Why sink?”

Jack grinned. “Cause he can’t swim. You might wanna keep this one away from the docks, Conlon.”

“Naw, I’m sure one of my boys will be able to change his name from ‘Sink’ to ‘Float’, pretty easy.” Spot said, smirking. 

The last boy spoke up. “I’m Frame!” he declared, grinning. 

“Hiya, Frame.”

Jack lowered his voice. “When we got him, we found a picture frame in his pocket. No photo, just the frame.”

Spot nodded. “Huh. Alright. Sink, Mouse, Frame, and Smalls. Got it.”

“Thanks, Conlon.”

“No problem, Jackie.”

“I’ll be back in a few days, to check on them, okay?” 

Spot nodded. “Sounds good, Kelly.”

Jack nodded, whispered a few words to the younger kids, and then left. Spot stood with the kids for a moment. “Alright, you all. My name is Spot. I’mma teach you the rules and get you checked in to your new home, okay?”

“Yessir Mr. Spot, sir,” said Smalls, fake saluting. 

“Don’t be a smart-ass, Smalls,” said Mouse. 

“Language,” Spot said, as they began to walk into Brooklyn. “You’s all is too young to be sayin’ that.”

The kids grumbled, but followed Spot into Brooklyn. 

AH: Race spotted Jack step to the back of the line at the circulation desk, and he smiled at him. Jack mouthed, ‘the kids will be fine,’ and Race nodded and stepped up to Wiesel.

“A hundred papes, Weasel.” 

Wiesel sighed, not bothering to correct Race. Race didn’t feel like paying, so he slipped his hand into his pocket. He slapped his hand down on the metal box and moved his hand to the edge, pretending to sweep the ‘coins’ off the box. Race grabbed his papes and walked away, smirking. Yet another successful bargain. This was the eleventh time that he didn’t pay, and he was hoping to keep his record untouched.

HU: By noon, Spot had sold all of his papers. The kids had been shadowing him all day, learning techniques and tricks. Spot lead them to the library, where he swiped a few books off the shelf, into his bag. Sink stared at him, wide-eyed. “That’s stealing!”, he whispered.

“No, it ain’t. We needs it more than them,” Spot said, as they walked out the door. “We’s got a sick boy. He needs entertainment and such.” They walked back to the lodging house in silence, and then Spot sent them upstairs to find a bunk, while he filled out the paperwork for them all. He handed it to the man who owned the lodging house; an old, skinny man by the name of Mr. Adler. Once the paperwork was done, he walked upstairs to see how his new recruits were faring. 

AH: Once Race finished selling his papers, he returned to the house. He was the only newsie there, to his relief. Race didn’t want to have to round up the newsies and calm them down. He laid down on his bed and relaxed for a few moments until he heard a slam of a door.

“Raaaace! Where are ya?” 

Race rubbed his forehead. Romeo.

He pushed open the door in Race’s room and grinned. “There ya are! What’cha doin’ in here?”

“Trying ta get away from you folks.” Race said jokingly, and Romeo laughed.

“We’s going around town and just hanging out. Do ya wanna come with?”

“Sure!” Race lied and sat up. He was going to lead them around until Jack got here. All he needed to be was a leader, and even though he was pretty good at it, the boss needed his own time to himself.

HU: Spot walked up the stairs to the bedroom, where the newest littles were getting to know Window. He handed Window the library books, before walking up to Smalls. “Hey,” he said, quietly.

“Yah?”

“I wanna introduce you to someone,” he said, before guiding her out of the bedrooms, and then out the lodging house. He lead her down to the docks, where a tall girl with a backwards newsie cap stood. 

“Hiya Sniper,” Spot said, smiling.

“Hey Boss,” She said, boredly. But her features softened when she saw Smalls. “Oh! Who’s this!”

“Her name is Smalls.”

“Ah! She’s a newsie?”

“Yeah, transfer from ‘Hattan.”

“She stayin’?”

“Yep.”

Sniper grinned from ear to ear, and bent down to talk to Smalls. “Hiya! I’s Sniper. I’mma show ya the ropes, kay?”

“Okay,” Smalls said, grinning.

Spot mouthed ‘thank you’ to Sniper, and walked back to the lodging house to talk to the new littles.

AH: The newsies started to walk back except Race, and he was excited. At the Sheepshead, there was supposed to be a big race, and that means more customers. Race was going to go to Brooklyn for the rest of the day and sell there. He couldn’t wait to come back to Manhattan with all the money he would make. He didn’t care if Spot was going to stop him, Race was going to put up a fight.


	4. Chapter 4

HU: When Spot heard that there was a newsie selling on his turf, he was pissed. Sure, the boy was selling at Sheepshead, which never had any newsies, but still, no one from out of Brooklyn was allowed to sell there. So, he stomped over to Sheepshead, ready to give this no-good newsie a lesson-”Racetrack?” he asked when he saw the familiar boy.

AH: Race turned around after handing a pape to a gentleman. He grinned. “Hey, Spot!”

HU: “Don’t ‘Hey Spot’ me. What’re ya doing here?”

AH: “I’m sellin’ papes. No one else sells at the Sheepshead, so here I am!” Race shook his head. “Oh, but I’m in Brooklyn, huh? So that makes it forbidden?”

HU: “Yeah. You’s can’t be here. This is Brooklyn, not your turf.”

AH: “Sorry, but I ain’t leaving. But we can compromise, if that’d interest ya.” Race stuck a new cigar in his mouth.

HU: “You’s ain’t in a position to compromise. I’s the leader here. Now, you gonna get off my turf?”

AH: “Nah, I’s stayin’. I need the money just as much as you do. You can sell with me, and I’ll split my earnin’s wit ya. It’ll be more fair, an’ so you’s won’t worry that I’ll take all the money.” Race said, raising an eyebrow.

HU: “Naw. No way. I’s can make my own money, I’s lives here. I knows the way to profit. Why are ya selling here and not in ‘Hattan?”

AH: “I just wanted a change of scene. Nothin’ wrong with that, ‘specially since no one sells papes here. The Sheepshead has a big race today,” Race gestured to the crowds of people entering the stadium. “so’s I had to come, and I’m sure you’s already knew that. More customers means the better I eat.”-

HU: “So’s you’se aint leavin?”

AH: “Yeah. Why? You’s gonna make me leave?” Race asked, mentally preparing.

HU: Spot inhaled slowly, This kid was causing him too much trouble. “You’s ain’t gonna give none of my newsboys any trouble, and you’s ain’t gonna take anyone’s selling spot, right?”

AH: “No, I wasn’t plannin’ on makin’ trouble in the first place. I’d never take someone’s sellin’ place.”

HU: “...Fine. But the second I hear about any trouble, i’s is kicking you out. For good. Got it?”

AH: “Got it, Conlon.” Race nodded. “Thanks.”

HU: “Yeah,” Spot grunted, trying to bite back the grin. “Uh… I don’t know if this is your thing, but we… The boys play cards on Tuesdays. So, tonight. If ya interested, you could join…”

AH: “Oh, yeah.” Race grinned. “I’ll come. When an’ where should I meet’cha?”

HU: “At the lodgin house. ‘Round seven.”

AH: “Alright. I’ll be there.” Race agreed.

HU: “Cool,” Spot said, a little flustered, as he turned to walk back to the lodging house.

AH: Race smiled to himself and walked around the entrance, trying to get people’s attention and sell papes. The crowd of people soon reduced to no one, and his papes as well to a few left over, and the race had begun. Race listened to the cheering crowd, and longed to go inside and watch. He could never afford a ticket, but he knew that one day he could watch a race.

HU: Spot walked to the lodging house, selling the last of the papers. He made it to their common room, where all the boys hung out when they weren’t selling or sleeping. “Hey boys,” he sid, sitting down across from Sling. “We’ve got a new boy selling in Brooklyn.”

“We’s housing another newsboy?”

“Naw. He’s just sellin’. In Sheepshead. So don’t soak ‘em or nothin’.  His name’s Racetrack, so... “

“Cool.” The newsies nodded in agreement.

AH: After an hour of Race wandering around the outside of the stadium and just waiting, the race ended. Crowds of people came out, and Race managed to sell the last of his papes. He counted his earnings, and was pleased to find that he earned twenty more cents than usual. Race decided that he would come back tomorrow. He glanced up at the big clock and saw that it read 6:56. He began to walk in the direction of the lodging house, gripping his bag to his side.

HU: At 6:58, Sniper started dealing out the cards.

AH: Race came to the entrance and took a deep breath. _You can do this, Race. They’re just a buncha newsies, it’ll be fine._ He pulled open the door and stepped inside. It was hot, and a skinny man stood behind a counter.

“Who are ya?”

“Just here ta meet with some buddies of mine.” Race said. It wasn’t entirely a lie, he just didn’t know them.

“Name three newsies.” The man snickered. Race puffed his chest out, glad that some of the Manhattan newsies joined.

“Smalls, Spot, and Mouse.”

“Alright, head on in.” The man nodded and Race went down the hallway and followed the sounds of newsies. He located a door, and knocked.

HU: Spot heard a knock, but didn’t look up. “Come in,” he said, as Sniper handed Dirt a hand of cards.

AH: Race opened the door, and all the newsies shifted to face Race. A chill went down his spine, and nerves filled him. He forced out his charm and grinned. “Hey, guys.”

HU: “And girl,” Sniper said, without looking up.

AH: Race smiled apologetically. “Yeah, sorry, didn’t mean ta single you out. Can I join ya in your game of cards?”

HU: “Definitely. Snipes, deal him in, k?” She nodded, and got him some cards. “Grab a chair,” Spot said, smiling. “Everyone, this is Race, the guy from Sheepshead. Racetrack, this is everyone. Table,” he said, pointing to a guy with black hair. “Planter,” he pointed to a girl with long, curly brown hair. “Slingshot,” he said, pointing to Sling, who had his feet on the table. “Dirt,” he said, gesturing to a dark-skinned boy with dirt all over his clothes. “And Sniper.” Sniper waved.   
“Planter and I is the only girls, ‘cept the younger one, Smalls. She’s from Manhattan, right?” Sniper asked, handing Race his cards.

AH: Race sat down and took the cards. “That’s right. She’s great.” He held his cigar between his fingers. “I’s sure she’ll be a help.”

HU: “Yeah, she’s got potential,” Sniper said. “Alright, i’s just here to watch. But i’m the dealer, so i’s is sorta helpful.”

AH: After a few hours of playing poker, the game ended.

HU: Sling had quit after the second hour of play, claiming he didn’t wanna lose anymore money. Dirt had fallen asleep, so now it was just Planter, Race, Spot, and Table. “Alright,” Spot whispered to Table. “Moment of truth, Table.”

Table flipped down his cards to reveal a pair.

“Shit, you’s dead,” Planter said, grinning.

“Oh yeah? Like you’s got much better, Planter.”

“Full house, bitches,” she said, folding over her cards.

“Just youse and me then, Racetrack.” Spot said, smirking. “Straight flush, asshole.”

AH: Race grinned widely. “Well, look’s like the sewers is clear tonight!” He slapped his cards down, a royal flush sitting on the table. Race stuck out his tongue, smiling, and put in a new cigar.

HU: Spot’s mouth was agape. “The hell?!” he shouted, leaping to his feet.

At the same time, Planter stood up. “Damn, new boy, you’s good.”

Table grinned. “You’s coming back for a rematch next week.”

Sling looked at Race in wonder. “How? How’d ya do it?!”

Sniper walked over to Racetrack, and clapped him on the back. “You’s officially one of us, new boy.”

AH: “I’s never reveal my secrets. I’ll be here next week.” Race scooped the coins from the pot and slid them into his bag, and swung it onto his chest. “Thanks for lettin’ me play, Spot.”

HU: Spot flipped him the finger. “You coming back to sell tomorrow, asshole?”

AH: Race laughed. “There isn’t a race tomorrow, so I’s sellin’ back in Manhattan. Next race, I’ll be back.”

HU: “Psh. ‘Not a race.’ Racetrack, there’s always races. They’s just not big enough to be appreciated. You should go to a smaller one sometime. They’s fun. And they ain’t as expensive.”

AH: “Yeah, I should. Maybe I’ll save up sometime an’ go to one someday.” Race shrugged. “But for now, I’s goin’ to big ones so’s I can make a big buck. I might not be back tomorrow, so’s don’t expect me.”

HU: “‘Right,” Spot said, opening the door for Race. “See ya later.”

“Hopefully soon!” Sling said, grinning.

“You rock,” Planter said, sticking out her tongue.

AH: “Aw, shuddup.” Race laughed. “See ya, people!” He stepped out into the hallway and exited the building. He smiled to himself and shook his bag, listening to the coins rattle. Race never felt like he belonged as much as he did then. He started off towards the Brooklyn Bridge, holding his bag close to him.

HU: “Alright,” Spot said with a wicked grin. “Who wants to wake up Dirt? I think he could use a shower.”

Sniper raced to the water pump, filled a bucket with the water, and brought it back. Planter grabbed the bucket. “Three,” she whispered, holding the bucket away from herself.

“Two,” Table said, stepping away from Dirt’s sleeping form.

“One!” Spot yelled, and Planter threw the bucket at Dirt, water splashing all over him. He woe with a start.

“Holy hell!” he said, shivering.

The rest of the group laughed at him, and eventually, they made their way upstairs to sleep.

AH: Race entered his room, and the newsies came in.

“Where’d ya go?”

“Did ya get high?”

“Did you find a girl?”

“Were you lost?”

“No!” Race said, dropping his bag on his bed. It landed with a satisfying clink.

Jack walked over to Race’s bed. “What’cha got in there?”

Race grinned. “I’m glad ya asked.” He emptied out his bag, coins raining onto the bed. “I’s got me a win in poker.”

“Woah!” Albert gasped. “That sure is a win!”

“Impressive, Racey. Not surprising, since you’s the best.” Jack shook his head. “Who’d ya play with?”

“The Brooklyn newsies.”

"The Brooklyn newsies?!” The guys parroted.

“What did you do to get ta play with ‘em?” Mush asked.

“I went to sell at Sheepshead, and Spot came to kick me off. I promised not to make trouble, and he invited me to play cards wit ‘em.” Race shrugged. “I didn’t do nothing.”

“Huh. That’s great, Race.” Jack clapped Race on the back. “Did you count yer earnin’s?”

“Not yet.” The newsies crowded around Race as he counted his coins.

“60 cents…...80 cents...100 cents...and….” Race took a few moments and grinned. “$2.05!”

“Woah!”

“Didn’t think Brooklyn would bet so much!”

“You’s gonna share?”

Race laid down on his bed. “I’s wanna get ta sleep, go away.”

The newsies shook their heads and left, leaving Romeo and Albert, who also slept in that room.

“Can we have some?” Romeo asked, putting on a puppy face.

Race patted his cheek. “Nah, no game.”

Romeo whined, and Albert laughed. “‘Night, boys.”

“‘Night.”

“G’night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive us. We don't know anything about Poker. We looked up the rules, but its confusssssiiiiiiiing.


	5. Chapter 5

HU: The next morning, Spot woke everyone up, but called out Sniper, Mattress, Light, and Shooter. He assigned them to Smalls, Mouse, Frame, and Sink. The olders would be teaching the new littles how to sell, and partnering with them until they could sell on their own. Spot bought his papers, then sought out Slingshot. “Sling!” he called, walking over to him, as Sling walked through the circulation gate. 

“Hey Boss,” Slingshot said, slowing down. “Wassup?”

“I might be back later tonight,” Spot said, falling into step with Slingshot. 

“Anything important?” Slingshot asked, smirking. “You got a girl?”

Spot laughed. “Naw. It’s business with Bronx.”   


“Man, good luck,” Slingshot said, laughing. 

Spot grinned, but then his features hardened. “You’s gonna be fine taking over Brooklyn for a night, right?” He aked, facing Slingshot.

Sling nodded. “You can count on me. Be safe,” he said, turning onto the street.    


“Yeah, I’s will,” Spot said, turning the other direction, towards Queens. Almost four hours later, he collapsed onto a bench. He knew his way to the Bronx Lodging House, so after a few moments of rest, he started up again. 

AH: Race walked around, asking people if they wanted to buy a pape. The crowd and the race at Sheepshead wasn’t that big, and that usually meant that the poorer citizens were there. They would connect better with the events that were occuring, so it shouldn’t be hard to sell, Race thought. He wasn’t there for long, and once the last pape was sold, he wiped his forehead to free it from sweat. Race sighed, and took out his cigar. He was hoping to find Spot, but he already told him that he might not come. Race was starting to regret saying that, and hoped that Spot would come at some point.

HU: Spot reached the Bronx lodging house, and walked inside. There was no one at the counter, so he walked up the stairs, to the bedrooms. He knew that all of the newsies would be out selling, but since some kids from Brooklyn had been sick, he assumed kids from other boroughs would also be bed-stricken. He entered the bedroom, and sure enough, there was a boy sitting on his bed, back to Spot. Spot coughed, and the boy whirled around.

“You’re not supposed to be here!” he exclaimed, looking slightly scared. 

“Where can I find Storm?” Spot asked, glaring at the boy.

“Who’s asking?” the boy said, sitting up straighter.

“Spot Conlon,” Spot said, grinning as the other boy’s eyes widened.

“Shit! Um… He’s probably down by the park.”

Spot nodded. “Thanks, kid.” Then, without another word, Spot walked to the window, opened it, and climbed down to the ground.

AH: Race shook his head, deciding that he wasn’t going to wait for someone to show up. He hopped off the curb and started down the street towards the bridge. He saw a sign labeling, ‘Park’, and he smiled. Let’s see what Brooklyn’s idea of a park is like. Race walked along the fence and turned so that he entered the park. It was nice, enough.

HU: Spot frowned at the Bronx streets. They were messier than the ones in Brooklyn, somehow rougher. He passed a few newsies, and then eventually reached the park. It seemed to be the only nice thing in the area. It had flowers, and there were kids and their parents everywhere. Spot grinned when he saw Storm, a tall newsie with pitch black hair. Spot walked over to him. “Storm.”

Storm turned around, facing Spot. “Hi, Conlon. What’re you doing in the Bronx? Thinkin’ ‘bout movin’ over here?”

Spot laughed. “No way in Hell, Storm. I can’t leave Brooklyn.”

Storm grinned. “Just messing with you. But really, what brings ya here? Ain’t it a long walk?”    


Spot nodded. “Brooklyn to Bronx, ‘bout four hours? I think. Just needed to clarify somethin’ with ya.”

“‘Bout the feud with the rest of ‘em?”

“Yeah. You’s still with us?”

“Yeah. But the fight’s gonna be hard, Conlon. Bronx and Brooklyn is pretty big, but we don’t stand a chance if Queens has got Manhattan, as well as Richmond and Harlem. Those ain’t good odds.”

Spot nodded. “They ain’t. But we’s got ‘Hattan. Spoke to the leader a few days ago. Struck a deal. They’s ain’t very happy ‘bout it, but they agreed.”

Storm’s eyes widened. “No shit?”

“Yeah, we’s got ‘em.”

“Does ‘Hattan even know what this is ‘bout?”

“Naw, but Kelly and I are going over the details tomorrow. Can you be there? With your second?”

‘Yeah, Freezer and I can be there. What time?” 

“Noon?”   


“Sure, Conlon. Thanks for tellin’ me.”   


“Anytime, Storm.” The two spit and shook, and then Spot started the four hour walk back to Brooklyn. 

AH: Race was sitting on the bench, watching kids run around, squealing at the top of their lungs. Race made sure not to have a cigar out in the open, since there were kids running around. But that made Race extremely bored, and he wasn’t feeling very active. He looked in the direction of the bridge, and sighed. It was so far away.  _ Maybe I’ll just rest my eyes for a second... _ Race thought to himself. He leaned back, crossed his arms, and closed his eyes.

HU: Spot got back to Brooklyn at a quarter to seven. He was walking passed the park, when he saw a newsboy on a bench, slumped over, as if he were sleeping. ‘ _ Fucking idiot,’ _ Spot thought.  _ ‘He’s gonna get robbed,’ _ he thought to himself, as he walked over to the sleeping boy, ready to wake him up. He stood over the boy, glaring, but then he recognized the boy. He had gotten a little sunburned from sleeping out in the sun for so long, but Spot saw the curly blonde hair, and recognised the boy as Racetrack. “Wake up, idiot,” Spot said, poking Racetrack’s sleeping form.

AH: Race bolted awake. “Spot? Wait, what time is it?”

HU: Spot crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. “How long was you sleepin’? It’s almost seven. And if ‘Hattan’s got the same rules as Brooklyn does, you’s gotta be back at your lodging house at nine. So i’d start walkin’.”

AH: “Crap! Thanks, Spot!” Race stood up, and quickly exited the park, jogging down the street. His cheeks flushed, embarrassed.  _ You idiot, I can’t believe you fell asleep!  _ Race furrowed his brow and hissed.  _ God, my face is sunburned.  _ Race thought as he delicately touched his cheek. 

HU: Spot grinned as Race ran away. He sat down on the bench, legs killing him. After a few seconds, he noticed that Race had left his cigar.  _ ‘That freaking idiot,’ _ he thought, as he pocketed the cigar.  _ ‘I’ll just get it to him tomorrow,’  _ he thought, as he stood up to get back to the lodging house.

AH: Race pushed open the door to the lodging house and headed up the stairs. He found his room, and thankfully, it was empty. He sat on his bed, rubbing his temples. Race reached into his back pocket for his cigar, and realized that it wasn’t there. He grumbled, then remembered that he had another one. Race pulled it out, and it was disintegrating. He rubbed it, and watched as the ash and pieces of the base fell onto his lap. Race lost his favorite, brand new, cigar. Of course. He tossed the remains into the garbage, and started counting his earnings.

HU: When Spot got back to the lodging house, he was pleased to see that everyone was there, most of them in their bunks. “Good job, Sling,” he said, patting Slingshot on the back. 

Sling looked up, and smirked. “Damn straight, Boss. You can count on me anytime. So how was the meeting with Bronx?”

Spot sighed, and sat down on  the bunk across from Sling’s. “It was fine. Feet hurt like hell, though.”

“I’ll bet,” Sling said, grinning. “Just selling tomorrow?”

“Naw, got to meet up with Kelly,” Spot said, rolling his eyes. 

“Fun,” Slingshot said, lying down on his bunk. “Y’know, Boss, I don’t envy you.”

“I know, Sling,” Spot grumbled, jumping off the bunk, and walking over to his small room, shoving Race’s cigar under his pillow, before taking off his shoes, and changing into one of his spare pairs of clothes, before counting his earnings. He had made $2.04; not bad, but certainly not his best. He set out $.75 for the next day; food and papers, and put the rest into a small box under his bed, labeled, “Clothes fund.” Then, he went to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

AH: The next morning, Race woke up to someone rubbing his face. He pushed the hands away and looked up.

“Jack, what are you doin’?”

“You’s got a bad sunburn, so’s we went out to get cream for it.” Jack said calmly, holding his hand out. Romeo had a small container, and he dipped his finger into a white substance. He wiped it on Jack’s hand, and he started to smear it onto Race’s forehead.

“Guys, I’s fine.” Race said, trying to sit up. Albert pushed him down, and Race sighed.

“Let us help ya, Racey boy.” Albert shook his head. After a minute, Jack pulled away and Romeo stuck the top onto the container and put it on Race’s table.

“Don’t touch yer face, now.” Jack said. “‘Else it’ll come off, and your face’ll get worse.”   


“I know, stop pesterin’ me. Race slid off the bed. “Thanks guys.”   


“No problem. Let’s get movin’, we’s got papes ta sell.” Romeo grinned and they headed out to walk to the circulation gate.

HU: When Spot woke up, he quickly got dressed, and woke up the rest of the newsies. He had sent a messenger to Manhattan, so they knew about the meeting. Spot bought his papers, before going to his normal selling spot, and starting to sell. At around ten twenty, Spot found Slingshot. “Hey! Sling!”

“Yeah Boss?”

“Meeting with Manhattan today, gotta get going.”

“Alright Boss. Like I said, I really don’t envy you.”

Spot faked surprise. “Oh, did I say I was going? No, you’re coming with me.”

Slingshot’s eyes widened. “No.”

“C’mon Sling,” Spot said, grabbing Slingshot’s arm, and dragging him in the direction of the bridge.

AH: Race felt a tap on his shoulder on the sidewalk, and heard Jack say, “Racetrack! You’s coming with me!”   


Race spun around and grinned. “I’s get to go to the meeting?”   


“Sure ya do! You’s my right-hand man, yeah?”   


“Yeah.” Race followed Jack back to the lodging house and they entered the common room. Race sat down next to Jack at the table and the rest of the newsies filed in after them and took their seats.

HU: Spot and Slingshot made it to the lodging house, walking past Kloppman, the man running the house, and going into the common room. They were immediately out-numbered by the Manhattan newsies, but they walked up to Jack. “Kelly,” Spot said, spitting on his hand and holding it out to Jack.

AH: Jack stood up, spit in his hand, and shook Spot’s hand. “Conlon. Have a seat.”

HU: “Thanks,” Spot said, sitting down. “This here’s Slingshot, he’s my second.” Slingshot and Jack shook hands, and Spot made eye contact with Storm, who was sitting across from him with his second, Freezer.

AH: Race felt an urge to have a cigar in his mouth, and remembered that he lost it. He cursed his sense of awareness and nodded to Freezer. 

HU: Spot saw Race, sitting to Jack’s right, and remembered the cigar. He reached into his bag, and grabbed the cigar, before tossing it over to Race, and standing up, signaling Storm to do the same. “Alright, newsies,” Spot said, looking at all of them. “So, I know none of you know the problem here, sorry ‘bout that. But Queens has been slowly creeping in on our turf. They’s sending newsies into Brooklyn, without an invite. Now, I know they’s been leaving ‘Hattan alone, but Bronx has also been getting uninvited visitors. We’s sent some boys into their turf to negotiate, but our boys got soaked over there. But it ain’t okay to just let ‘em invade our turf, so I say we do somethin’ bout it. Agreed?” he asked, glaring at the few boys who cringed at the talk of Queens.

AH: Race caught his cigar and popped it into his mouth, not thinking about where it might have been. He listened to Spot talk and Race spoke. “Yeah! They can’t just walk over yer turf!”

HU: Spot grinned when Racetrack spoke. “Damn straight! So’s I say we fights back. We’s sends boys into their turf, to sell, and if our boys gets soaked, we soak ‘em straight back. If it comes to a brawl, then, as much as we don’t like it, we show ‘em who’s boss.”

AH: The newsies cheered in agreement, and Race pumped his fist into the air. 

HU: “If ya don’t wanna fight, that’s okay. No one’s making ya. But if ya do, then meet at Central Park next Friday. We can tell the other boroughs, and then we’ll finally settle this.”

AH: Race nodded, and some other newsies did as well. 

“Good. So we’s done here?” Jack asked, scanning the crowd for possible questions.

HU: No one had any questions, so Jack declared the meeting over. Slingshot left, but Spot hung back, to talk to Storm.  “How’d I do?” he asked Storm.

“It was good, I think we’ve got a chance,” Storm said, grinning. 

“Good,” Spot said, shaking hands with Storm before turning to leave.

AH: Race came up to Spot and tapped his shoulder. “Hey, Spot.”

HU: Spot turned around, and saw Race. “Hey, Racetrack. What’s up?”

AH: “Thanks for the cigar. Where’d ya find it?” 

HU: “On the bench, where ya fell asleep, idiot,” Spot said, grinning. 

AH: “Oh.” Race blushed. “Oops.”

HU: “I’ll say. You’re lucky I found it, or it would have been stolen.”

AH: “Yeah, thanks a lot. But who would want a used cigar?”

HU: “People are crazy…”

AH: Race laughed. “Yeah.”

HU: “So…” Spot said, trying to think of something to say. “You gonna fight?”

AH: “Sure am. They’s need ta learn where their boundaries are! I’m sure most of tha Manhattan newsies agree.” Race grinned.

HU: “That’s good to know,” Spot said, fidgeting with his bag.

AH: Race realized the conversation had pulled to a stop and he felt awkward standing there. 

HU: “I should.. Head back to Brooklyn,” Spot said, awkwardly.

AH: “Yeah...g’night, Spot.” Race nodded.

HU: Spot waved to Racetrack, and then started out, back to Brooklyn.

AH: Race watched as the door closed behind him. He grinned, happy with their conversation. He headed up to his room and heard a groan.

“Shush! We’s trying ta sleep here!”

Race shook his head and pushed open his door, revealing Albert and Romeo in their beds, hiding under their blankets. 

“Too bright…” Albert whined. Race shut the door, and slid into his bed, whispering a ‘sorry’ to them. After a few moments, Race drifted into sleep.

HU: The weekend passed quickly, and soon it was Tuesday, poker night. The day passed slowly for Spot, who was excited to see Race in the afternoon. Not that he would admit it.

AH: Race was quick to sell his papes, and he sat in Jacobi’s, very antsy.

“Stop squirming, what are you, a worm?” Jacobi asked with a laugh afterwards.

“Just excited, is all.” 

“For what?”   


“I’s playin’ poker tonight.”   


“Don’t lose all of your money, kid.” Jacobi shook his head. “What would you like?”

“Just water, thanks.”   


“Coming right up.”

HU: At the end of the day, Spot went back to the Circulation gate, payed for the papers he didn’t sell, and walked back to the Lodging house, ready for some poker.

AH: Race walked down the bridge, his heart pounding with excitement. He could feel it, he was going to win again.

After a while of walking, Race arrived at the lodging house. He pushed open the door and the same old man stared at him.

“What’cha here for again, huh?”

“Playin’ poker, sir.”   


“Head on in.”   


HU: “Hiya Race,” Spot said, as he heard the door open.

AH: “Hey, Spot.” Race greeted as he stepped in. “Hey, everyone.”

HU: “Here to rob my newsies again, ‘Hattan?” Spot asked as Race took his seat at the table.

AH: “Completely. I’s ready for this game.” Race said as he adjusted his hat.

HU: Halfway through the game, Spot forfieted. He didn’t like it, but he was gonna lose way too much money if he kept in. Sniper and Dirt quit too, leaving Planter, Sling, Table, and Race left at the end.

AH: Race nibbled at the end of his cigar thoughtfully, and soon only Planter and he were left over.

“Let’s see how this goes, Planter.” Race grinned.

“Don’t get too cheeky, Racer.” Planter shook her head as she peered over her cards.

HU: Spot grinned at them. He wanted Planter to win, but also, he couldn’t deny that part of him was rooting for Racetrack.    


Dirt spoke up from sidelines. “Just show your cards, Race!”

AH: Race flipped over his cards, smacking them on the table. He knew that he didn’t have a flush, but Planter couldn’t have one, right? 

HU: “Three of a kind, ‘Hattan?” Planter mused, looking down at her cards. She had an excellent poker face, and she feigned defeat as she put down her cards “I guess i can’t beat that,” she said, slowly standing up. “‘Specially with my FULL HOUSE! SUCK ON THAT!” Spot whooped, and grinned.    


“Fuckin’ take that, Racer. THAT’S what you get for robbing my newsies.”

AH: “Excuse your language! I’s hurt!” Race said, pretending to be upset. He laughed. “Good game, Planter. You’s did good.”

HU: Planter and Spot high-fived, and Planter held out her hand to Race.

AH: Race high-fived her, and pushed his chair in. “Enjoy your winnin’s!” 

HU: Planter shoved the money into her bag, and smiled. “Thanks for playin’, Race.”

AH: “Yeah, thanks for havin’ me.” Race nodded and opened the door to the commonroom.

HU: Race left, and a few seconds later, Spot ran out to see him. “Race, Race! I’s will see ya at Central Park on Friday, right?”

AH: Race grinned, and stuck his tongue out, calling out to him. “Sure am! I’ll see you then! Have a good night!” 

HU: “You too, Racer,” Spot said, grinning and turning back to the lodging house.

AH: Race came back to the lodging house, and the newsies called Race out.   


“Racey boy!”   


“RACEEEE!”

“You’re back!”   


“What’dya win?!”

“Slow down, god!” Race laughed, then softened his face. “I didn’t win…”   


“Whaaat?” Jack groaned. “Sorry, Racey.”   


“Nah, I’m not that upset about it.” Race shrugged. “Planter won.”   


“Cool, who’s he?” Mush asked, leaning over the back of his chair.

“You mean she,” Race corrected him. “She’s good.”   


“Oooh, a she!” Romeo grinned. “She pretty?”   


“Shut up, Romeo. You’s can go see her at Central Park on Friday, leave me out of it!” Race shook his head. “I’s going ta bed.” 

“‘Kay, goodnight.” Hotshot waved, and the rest of the newsies did as Race left.


	7. Chapter 7

HU: The next day was Wednesday, and the showdown was getting nearer. Spot sent three of his messengers; Shooter, Light, and Break, to tell Harlem, Richmond, and Queens about the showdown. He went to the circulation gate, and bought his papers, before walking over to the clothing store near Sheepshead.

AH: Race stepped up to Wiesel and grinned. “Mornin’, Weasel.”   


Wiesel huffed, and ignored him.

“So’s you gonna cut me a deal?” Race said, leaning over the counter.   


“No.”

“C’mon, spot me the deal! Even if I call ya sweetheart?”   


“No.”   


“Oh, whatever happened ta romance?” Race said, receiving laughter from the newsies. He grinned, paid, and took his papes. He exited the circulation area and started off to Brooklyn’s Sheepshead.

HU: Two hours after Spot got to the corner, he saw Race, walking down the street. “Morning, Racetrack,” Spot said, grinning.

AH: “‘Mornin’, Spot.” Race smiled and walked over to him. “How’s the day treatin’ ya?”

HU: ‘Not too bad, i suppose. You? How was the walk to Brooklyn?”

AH: “Good, tha bridge wasn’t too crowded today, so it was easy.” Race nodded. “Didn’t get run over or nothin’.”

HU: “That’s good,” Spot said, chuckling.

AH: Race laughed. “I’m going to start sellin’ now, I’ll see you later?”

HU: “Okay,” Spot said, waving to Race as he walked to Sheepshead.

AH: Race jogged up to him. “Hey, you’s goin’ to Sheepshead as well?”

HU: “Yeah. I figured, no newsie goes there, ‘cept for you, so they’res prolly a lot of people who need papers.”

AH: “Cool, so’s we can educate more people about local news!” Race grinned.

HU: “I mean, obviously,” Spot said, grinning. “Hey, I’s bet you can walk down to where everyone is sitting and sell some papes. That way you’d be able to watch the horses and do your work.”

AH: “Hey, that’s not a bad idea. I just hopes that they’ll let me sell there.”

HU: “I’s sure they will,” Spot said, opening the door.

AH: Race raised an eyebrow teasingly. “Why thank ya, good sir.”

HU: Spot rolled his eyes. “Don’t make me regret it.”

AH: “Sure ya won’t.” Race walked in confidently, and one of the guards looked at him.

“Where’s your ticket?”   


“Nah, I’s not watchin’. I’s sellin’ papes.” Race said, grinning.

HU: “Uh huh.”

Spot glared at the man. “There a problem here?”

The guard shook his head. “The two of you better behave, or you’re out.”   


Spot nodded, and pulled Race away by his arm.

AH: As Race was pulled away, he turned his head to the guard. “We’s won’t make any trouble, sir. Not ta worry!” Race turned his head back and laughed. 

HU: Spot grinned as the guard shook his head and walked off to the front row of seats.

AH: They entered and Race scanned the crowd, and walked down the aisles, asking anyone if they want to buy a pape.

HU: Spot, however, buttoned up his vest, shoved his hat into his bag, fixed his hair, and took a seat, putting his bag under his seat. Upon first sight, he looked like the rest of the guys at the track.

AH: Race smirked, and headed over to Spot. “Good day sir, may I interest ya in a pape?”

HU: Spot grinned and pulled out two cents from his pocket. “Sure, what’s the headline today?”

AH: “Two newsies got inta a race by the hairs on their chins! Interest ya?” Race asked, twisting his cigar.

HU: “Definitely,” Spot said, taking the paper and handing Race the money.

AH: “Wait, Spot, I’s was just kiddin’, don’t give me your money!” Race shook his head, and held his hand with the coins out.

HU: “Nope,” Spot said, flipping through the newspaper. “Too late.”

AH: Race sighed. “Fine. I’s goin’ ta sell more papes until the race starts, so’s save me a seat.”

HU: “Sure thing,” Spot said, placing his bag on the seat next to him, and reading the paper.

AH: Soon, a person with the Sheepshead uniform announced that the race was about to begin. Race made his way through the crowd, and squeezed past Spot, and sat down. “You’s excited?”   


HU: “Kinda. Never been before, so yeah. You?”

AH: “I’m really excited, I’s never been before either. Guess we’ll see what the fuss is about!” Race laughed.

HU: “Oh, shush, Racer. Don’t try to contain your excitement.”

AH: “I’ll be quiet," Race said and then whispered into Spot’s ear with a smile, “we’s supposed to be sellin’ anyways, Spottie.”

HU: Spot felt shivers down his spine when Race whispered, but shook it off. “Shaddup,” he said, directing his attention to the track, where twelve horses were lined up.

AH: Race bounced in his seat slightly, his heart pounding. He was so excited, and couldn’t wait for it to begin.

He heard a shot of a gun, and the twelve horse raced down the track. Cheers erupted from the crowd, and Race joined them.

HU: Spot cheered along with the crowd, and then turned to Race. “Bet ya $.50 that #7 wins,” he said, grinning.

AH: Race smiled. “You’s on. I bet the same amount for number 3!”

HU: “Alright,” Spot said, grinning. “You’s on.” For the rest of the race, Spot cheered loudly for horse number seven.

AH: Race noted Spot’s tone, and he cheered even louder for number 3. “GO!!”

HU: Spot looked at Race, and grinned. “‘C’mon number seven! You’s got this! Go! Go! Go!”

AH: The horses started to near the finish line, and the crowd started to yell even louder. “C’MON!!” Race cupped his hands around his mouth.

HU: Spot glared at horse 7, who was in second place. “HURRY UP YOU LITTLE BASTARD!” He yelled, practically screaming.

AH: The horse in first place was number 10, and number three was in third place, for god’s sake. “YOU CAN DO IT! COME ON!!” Race yelled.

HU: Spot held his breath, and horse number three suddenly got a burst of speed, pushing to the very front, and making past the finish line. The crowd erupted. “Shit,” Spot mumbled, digging out some coins.

AH: Race didn’t see Spot take out the coins (he forgot about the bet with all the excitement), and he was jumping up and down. “YES!” Race took off his hat and waved it around in the air. After a few moments of cheering, he flopped down into his seat.

HU: “You win, ‘Hattan,” Spot said, passing Race two dimes, one nickel, and a quarter.

AH: “Oh, yeah, cool, thanks.” Race pocketed the coins and stood up. “Wanna get some food?”

HU: “Sure,” Spot said, unbuttoning his vest and putting his hat on, before grabbing his bag and standing up.

AH: They made their way out of the stadium, and Race turned to Spot. “Do ya know a place in Brooklyn or do ya want ta go to Jacobi’s?”

HU: “I’s sure there is a place in Brooklyn, but you’s gotta get back to ‘Hattan anyways, so let’s go to Jacobi’s,” Spot said, turning left to get to the bridge.

AH: “Okay.” Race stuck his hands into his pockets and walked with Spot on his right side. “Is the newsies feelin’ any better?”

HU: “Yeah, thanks for askin. They’s back at it.”   


AH: “That’s great! I’m glad.” Race grinned.

HU: “Yeah,” Spot said, as they reached the bridge. “We had one boy, Window, who was real sick. I’s glad he got better, ‘else we woulda had to take him to a doctor.”

AH: “Yeah, that would’ve been pricey. Hopefully that bug has passed fo’ good.” 

HU: “Yeah. Least its not as bad as the ones during winter,” Spot said, cringing at the memories of the illnesses that the winter months brought.

AH: Race shook his head, closing his eyes. “Those days were rough.”

HU: “Yeah,” Spot said, falling silent for a moment.

AH: They walked in silence for a few moments and soon they got off the bridge and Jacobi’s was in sight. “There’s it is.”

HU: “The one and only,” Spot said, walking over to the door.

AH: Race rushed forward and held the door open for Spot.

HU: “Wow, thanks,” Spot said, walking in to the store and choosing a table.

AH: Race pulled out a chair and sat down. Jacobi walked over and chuckled. “What did you do to get Spot to come over, Race?”   


“Nothin’, Jacobi! Nothin’ at all.” Race grinned.

HU: “Hey, I came here of my own accord,” Spot said, grinning.

AH: “Great, so what do you boys want?” Jacobi asked.

“A sandwich, what’dya want, Spot?” Race took out his cigar.

HU: “Just a sandwich,” Spot said, looking down at the table. “Don’t care which kind; surprise me.”

AH: “I assume the same kind for you, Race?” Jacobi scratched his beard.

“Yep.”

“Alright.” Jacobi nodded and walked away.

HU: “So…” Spot started, uncertain.

AH: “So.” Race gave a quiet, awkward, laugh.   


HU: Spot hesitated for a moment, before diving straight in. “Uh.. You’s got a girl?” He asked, face immediately flushing.

AH: Race blushed. “Uhm, no, I’s don’t...do you?” 

HU: Spot laughed. “Naw, no time.”

AH: “Yeah.” Race scratched the back of his neck, not really sure what to say next. 

HU: Spot laughed at the awkward silence. 

AH: Race laughed as well, and just hoped that Jacobi would hurry up with those sandwiches. “...Ya nervous about the fight on Friday?”

HU: “Psh. Naw,” Spot said, lying. “Hope no one gets hurt though.”

AH: Race nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, I’s agree. They’s gotta stop though, they’s have ta.”

HU: “Hopefully. But Queens is serious about this. They’s crazy.”

AH: Race nodded and Jacobi walked over, sliding two plates with their sandwiches on them onto the table. “Pay up.”

Race reached into his bag and took out two nickels and handed them to Jacobi. He smiled and left them with their sandwiches.

HU: “Shit, Racer, you didn’t have to buy mine,” Spot said, rummaging around in his bag for some coins.

AH: “Nah, don’t bother yourself none. I’s got it.” Race grinned and bit into his sandwich.

HU: Spot looked up from his bag. “You sure?”

AH: “Yeah, I’s positive.” Race said once he swallowed, and grinned. “It’s the least I can do, since I won the bet.”

HU: “Alright,” Spot said, grabbing his sandwich and biting into it. “Thanks.”

AH: “No prob.” After a minute Race polished off his sandwich and he stretched.

HU: Spot finished his sandwich slowly, then stood up. “You need to get back to the lodging house, huh?”

AH: “Yeah, I do. Thanks for, ya know, hangin’ out with me.” Race grinned and stood up as well. “You’re real nice.”

HU: Spot blushed, but grinned. “Aw, shaddup.”

AH: “Just bein’ charmin’.” Race laughed and they exited Jacobi’s. “I’ll see ya on Friday, and mayhapes tomorrow.”

HU: “Right,” Spot said, as Race turned left. “See ya, Racer.” He said, turning right to get to the bridge.

AH: Race waved and once Spot was out of earshot, Race murmured to himself, “Yes!”

He returned to the lodging house and Romeo went up to Race immediately. 

“Racey, didja see Planter?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Uh, no. I didn’t.” Race shook his head.

“Aw, I was hopin’ for a daily report.” Romeo sighed dramatically and flopped into Mush’s arms. “Whatever will I do?”

Race laughed and continued to goof off with the guys for the afternoon.

HU: Spot sold the rest of his papers as he crossed the bridge, leaving him with a free afternoon. 

AH: They only got to talk for ten minutes until Jack came in and told them to go sell the rest of their papes, or they’d hav’ta pay more. Everyone left the house and sold their papes, and Race decided to go up to the rooftop again one he finished. He climbed up the ladder and popped in a cigar. It was especially hot that day, but the rooftop made it a warm, windy day. Race sighed, and sat down on the edge of the roof. He let his legs dangle and let his thoughts wander wherever they pleased.

HU: Spot made it back to the lodging house, and put away his money as well as his bag and hat, then grabbed his slingshot and walked down to the docks.

AH: Race looked over on the rooftop and saw a dirty, old pencil. He picked it up and twirled it, reaching into his pocket for any material to write on. He found a scrap of paper, and he jotted down some of his thoughts. The little things he noticed about the newsies, and his thoughts about Spot. Race folded up the piece of paper and tucked it into his sock.

HU: Spot reached the docks, where newsies were swimming, and pushing each other into the water. He grinned at the sight. He was shooting a few bottles when Slingshot came up to him. “Hiya Boss,” Sling said, grinning.

“Hey Sling,” Spot said, firing his slingshot and hitting a bottle, shattering it.    


“Where’ve you been?”

“Whatcha mean, Sling?”

“I mean, you’s been gone a lot recently. So what’s that about, huh?”

“You questioning me, Sling?”

“You’s got a girl?”

Spot laughed, short and sharp. “Naw, Sling. I ain’t got a girl. Ain’t I allowed to roam outside of Brooklyn once and a while?”

Slingshot glared. “Ain’t that the point Queens is making?”

Spot set down his slingshot, and turned to Sling. “Listen up. You’s my second in command, which means I trust ya, but I also don’t have to explain myself to ya. Got it?” He said, fixing Sling with a harsh glare.

“Whatever,” Slingshot mumbled. 

“Everyone’s replaceable, Sling.” Spot said, standing up and walking away, no longer in the mood to talk.

AH: Race hopped down from the ladder, needing to stretch his legs. He walked a few blocks, just wandering around with no plan in mind. On occasion he spotted a few of the newsies hanging out, and soon the sun was starting to set. Race hurried back to the lodging house and flopped onto his bed.


	8. Chapter 8

AH: Race hopped down from the ladder, needing to stretch his legs. He walked a few blocks, just wandering around with no plan in mind. On occasion he spotted a few of the newsies hanging out, and soon the sun was starting to set. Race hurried back to the lodging house and flopped onto his bed.

HU: The next day was Thursday, and everyone was nervous. No one could concentrate, and paper sales were lower than usual. The littles were salty about not being able to fight, despite the insane amount of times that the older newsies had said that it was a good thing. Spot spent the morning selling papers on the bridge, looking around every few seconds for Race.

AH: Race stepped onto the Brooklyn bridge, eyeing every person who was crossing. He didn’t want to accidentally miss Spot, so he kept eyes up over the crowd. Race was nearing the end of the bridge, and he had lost hope by now. Then he saw Spot on the other side of the bridge, selling a pape. Race grinned and called, “Spot!”

HU: Spot heard his name and looked up, afraid it was Slingshot. Instead, he saw a mop of curly blonde hair. “Racer!” He said, grinning. “Hey!”

AH: Race pushed through the crowd, and once he reached Spot, said teasingly, “You tryna be hard ta find, Spot?”

HU: “Sorta. Trouble with my second, so im not really excited to see him.”

AH: “Aw, sorry ‘bout that. Well, I can help distract ya!” Race grinned. “You can count on me ta not let a thought of ‘im cross yer mind!”

HU: Spot blushed at the flirty comment. “Sure, Racer. So how’ve sales been?”

AH: “Pretty good, I’ve been gettin’ more regulars lately. How’s it for ya?”

HU: “Not bad, but not great.” 

AH: “That’s good.” Race started to walk towards Brooklyn. “Manhattan’s a bit jittery ‘bout the fight tomorrow.”

HU: “So’s Brooklyn. The littles wanna fight.”

AH: “Same for the kids. It’s too dangerous, but they’s keep on insistin’.” Race shook his head. 

HU: “Yeah,” Spot mused as they got off the bridge.

AH: “I just hopes that Queens’ll stop. They’s askin’ for a fight.” 

HU: “Yeah, they’s ain’t too bright.”

AH: “They sure aren’t.” Soon they reached Sheepshead. “So’s we gonna go in or sell outside?”

HU: “Prolly outside, dont want them getting suspicious.”

AH: “Yeah, I agree.” Race took the left side of the building, and went around selling papes.

HU: Spot stayed where he was, selling papers right outside the front door.

AH: After about 30 minutes, the race had begun. No one was surrounding the building anymore, so Race went over to the front. 

HU: Spot saw Race come to the front of the building, just as he was selling his last paper. “Hey Race,” Spot said, smiling. 

AH: “Hey! Sold all my papes, did ya do the same?” Race adjusted his hat.

HU: “Yeah,” Spot said, pocketing his coins. 

AH: “Cool,” Race held his hand over his eyes to shield them from the sun. “Sure is hot out today.”

HU: “Yeah,” Spot said, fanning himself with his hat.

AH: “Wanna go swimming?” Race suggested.

HU: “Down by the docks?” Spot said, falling into step with Race.

AH: “Yeah, sure.” Race nodded.

HU: “Cool,” Spot said. “Turn right here,” he said, pointing. 

AH: Race followed Spot down the street and soon the cement ground turned into wooden planks. It was a little windy, and Race grinned. “Much better.”

HU: Spot sat down on the docks, folding his overshirt and socks, putting them on the ground, and putting his hat, shoes, and bag on the ground on top of them, before jumping into the water.

AH: Race tucked his cigar into his bag, took off his shoes, then lifted off his shirt and placed it over his bag. He slid off the edge and landed in the water.

HU: “It’s fricking cold!” Spot said, shivering. 

AH: Race had just come up from underwater and he hissed. “God, it’s winter all over again!”

HU: Spot grinned wickedly, and splashed Race with the water.

AH: Race gasped. “You dare to challenge ME?!” Race splashed Spot as well.

HU: The few splashes evolved into a full on fight, and Spot was about to dunk Racetrack, when he heard a “Hello” from above. He looked up, and saw Slingshot standing there, crossing his arms. 

“Hey Sling,” Spot said, straightening up, and glaring.   


“What are you doing??!”    


“Ain’t I allowed to have fun once in a while?” Spot asked, swimming to the ladder, and climbing up onto the dock, before grabbing his clothes to put them on.

AH: Race swam over to the ladder as well, and pulled himself onto the dock. He used his jacket to dry himself up and put on his shirt.

HU: “Boss, seriously?”

Spot fixed Slingshot with a glare. “What’s your problem, Sling?”

“You’s acting crazy.”   


“Ain’t I allowed to have fun?”

“With a guy? From ‘Hattan? Boss, you’s acting like a queer.”

AH: Race sucked in his breath. He had no right to cut in, so he kept quiet. “I’s just gonna leave..”

HU: “Yeah, bye, queer,” Slingshot said, glaring.

And before Spot even could process his rage, he had socked Slingshot in the face.

AH: Race swiped his cigar out of his mouth, and tossed it to the ground. He was furious at Slingshot, but punching his right-hand guy? What was he thinking? “What did ya just do, Spot?!”

HU: Spot watched Slingshot stagger back. “You asshole, Spot!” He ran off in the other direction, and Spot wordlessly bent down and put his hat back on.

AH: Race shook his head, and picked up his cigar, and put it in his bag. He took a shaky breath. “Thanks, Spottie.”

HU: “Yeah,” Spot said, wordlessy putting on his vest.

AH: “...What’cha going ta do about Sling? He didn’t seem too pleased.” Race slipped on his socks and tied his shoes.

HU: “I’ll give him some time to cool off.” Spot said, glaring at his feet. “If he talks like that anymore, he can go to another borough. I’s sure Harlem’s got a place for him.”

AH: “....Yeah.” Race thought that asking any more questions might set him off. “Thanks, again, for standin’ up for me. It was fun swimmin’ with ya.”

HU: “You too, Racer. See ya tomorrow?”

AH: “Yeah, I’ll see ya then.” Race waved and walked away.

HU: Spot, now robbed of his good mood, picked up his bag and walked back to the lodging house.

AH: Race replayed that moment over and over again in his head. Being called queer wasn’t a good thing, but Race wondered if it was true. Whenever he thought of Spot he got all giddy, and he was glad that he stood up for him. Race grinned to himself, and put the cigar in his mouth as he walked across the bridge.

HU: Spot got back to the lodging house, and collapsed onto his bed, still soaking. He wondered why he had gotten so mad at Slingshot. Maybe it was because Race was his best friend, and he felt the need to defend him, or maybe Spot- No, he closed the thought out of his mind. Thirty minutes later, he fell asleep.

AH: Race entered the lodging house, physically and mentally exhausted. He walked by the common room and heard a voice call, “Racer! You’s back!”   


Race poked his head into the room. “What?”   


“What d’ya mean, ‘what’? Hey, why’s you all wet?” Jack inquired. 

“I...went swimming.”   


“Swimming? Where?”   


Race hesitated. “Brooklyn.”   


“Why didja go so far? Manhattan has water too!” Jack laughed but then his smile faded. “Wait, were you’s with Conlon?”   


“...Yeah.” Race fidgeted with his fingers.

“Huh. Wouldn’t have thought.” Jack stood up and walked over to him, coking his head to the side. “Why’s you so nervous?”

“Uh, me? No!” Race laughed.

“God, Racer, you’s terrible at lying. Are you and Spot…?” Jack gasped and grinned. “Oh my GOD, Racer, do you--?”

“No, shut up!”

“You’s blushing! C’mon, it’s true! You can’t hide it from me!”

“I can!” Race bounded up the stairs and slammed the door behind him.


	9. Chapter 9

HU: Spot woke up the next morning, almost forgetting what was about to happen. Forgetting, that is, until Lick came into his small room. “Spot!”

“Yeah?”

“We’s got to go!”    


“Oh sh-”

“Yeah!” 

Spot jumped out of bed, and woke up the rest of the newsies. Slingshot still hadn’t come back, so Spot instructed the littles to spend the day selling, and to stay in Brooklyn. Then, all the older boys walked out of the lodging house, heading for Central Park.

AH: “Alright, boys. We’s got a big brawl today.” Jack said to the newsies surrounding him. “There might not be one, I know, but if there is...you’s gotta be ready. You’s ready?!” 

“Yeah!” The newsies cheered, and they exited the lodging house and walked towards Central Park.

HU: Brooklyn got there first, and for a while, they sold their papers as they waited for the others.

AH: The Manhattan newsies arrived, and Race looked around for Spot. 

HU: Spot saw the Manhattan newsies arrive, and walked over to Jack. “Morning, Kelly.”

AH: Jack nodded, and his encounter with Race the previous night came to mind. “‘Mornin’, Spot.” He spat into his hand and stuck it out for Spot to shake. Race jogged over, and stood next to Jack.

HU: Jack and Spot shook, and Spot turned to Race. “Glad ya got back before curfew, ‘Hattan.”

AH: Jack raised an eyebrow. Race grinned. “I’s sure am as well.”

Jack looked between Spot and Race and tried to pick out what they were thinking. Race seemed a little nervous, and for Spot, well, it was always impossible to tell.

HU: “You’s ready?” Spot asked, as Harlem started to trickle in.

AH: “Ready as I’ll ever be.” Race nodded. 

“Sure am.” Jack crossed his arms. “Hey, where’s Slingshot, Spot?”

HU: “Don’t think he’s coming,” Spot said, as Bronx boys started coming in.

AH: “Ah, alright.” Jack noticed a look go across Race’s face and he wondered if he had anything to do with Slingshot being gone. “I’ll go round-up Manhattan.”

HU: “Right,” Spot said, and Dirt came up to him.

“Boss?” Dirt asked.

“Yeah Dirt?”

“Ain’t the cops gonna come?”

“Naw. They don’t care enough ‘bout us,” Spot said, as the Richmond boys came stomping in.

AH: Race saw how Richmond came in, and he felt a ball of doubt grow in his stomach. Were they doing the right thing? Jack called him over, and Manhattan stood in a group and waited for Queens to come.

HU: Finally, the boys from Queens came. Biter, their leader, broke the tension by walking over to Spot. “You’s backing down yet, Conlon?”

“No way in Hell, Biter.” Spot said.

AH: Jack stepped up and stood next to Spot. “Don’t get too cocky now, Biter.”

Race stood in front of the Manhattan newsies, crossing his arms and trying to look tough.

HU: Biter mumbled something that only Spot could hear, and Spot pushed him. That was when all hell broke loose. Fists and insults were flying, boys were falling to the ground. Spot hit Biter, and Biter kicked him in the shin, sending pain up Spot’s leg. Spot cursed, and got Biter in the stomach. Biter doubled over, and Spot moved on to the next up.

AH: Race was fighting a smaller newsies, but not small enough to be a kid. Race blocked a punch and he uppercutted the boy in the chin, receiving a satisfying crunch. The boy fell to the ground, clutching his face. Race took that opportunity to move onto the next newsie who dared to punch him.

HU: Spot kicked a newsie in the back of the leg, knocking him to the ground. But the next newsie, who looked familiar to Spot, punched Spot in the face. Spot staggered back, and the newsie punched him in the face again. Spot straightened up, and saw that the newsie was -Slingshot?!- Spot glared, and kicked Sling, but Sling fought back.

AH: Race punched a newsie in the face and felt someone hit him in the back of his head. Race clenched his teeth so that his cigar wouldn’t fall out, and whipped around. The newsie swung his arm, and punched Race in his left eye. Race hissed, and for a moment, his vision was spotty and colorful. His right eye was fine, but his other was throbbing. Race yelled, and threw himself at the newsie, slamming him into the ground. Race punched him in the ribs, and slowly stood up, the boy not being able to stand up though. Race held his eye, and walked over to the edge of the park to take a breather.

HU: Spot felt an arm on his shoulder, it was another newsboy, who held him in place, while Slingshot hit him. His body burned, but he fought back, elbowing the boy in the face, before kneeing Slingshot in the place where the sun didn’t shine. He continued to fight, as did everyone else, until Biter and Harlem’s leader started to run. The rest of the newsies followed them, until all that was left was Brooklyn, Manhattan, and the Bronx.

AH: Jack grinned, as he was wiping blood away from his cheek. “We won.”

Race looked up and saw the newsies running away. “We won. We really won!”

HU: Spot limped over to them, nearly unrecognizable by the bruises and the blood on his face. “Good job,” he said, weakly.

AH: “Spottie?” Race walked over to him, his face a bruised and he had a black-eye with bloody knuckles. “Are ya alright?” 

HU: “I’s fine,” Spot said, lying, and wiping blood from his chin. “You?”   


AH: “Alright, my left eye’s vision is spotty, though.” Race looked over at Jack. “You’s okay?”   


“Good, I’m not dead!” Jack laughed. He frowned once he saw Race. “You’s got the blackest eye I’ve eva seen.”

HU: “Race… You think you’s gonna need a doctor?” Spot asked worriedly.

AH: “Nah, I’ll be fine.” Race shook his head, not wanting any more attention. “You’s gonna have ta see about yourself too.” He stepped a bit closer so he was less than arm’s length away and looked at the bruises on Spot’s face. 

“They don’t look too good.”

HU: “I’ll be fine. Good as new in a few days.”

AH: Race sighed. “If ya say so.” 

Jack had started to gather up the Manhattan newsies, and he asked them if they were good. They all gave the same answer, ‘alright’. 

HU: Spot found Storm, and the two of them shook hands in victory, before rallying up their two boroughs.

AH: Race and Jack had all the Manhattan newsies together, and they murmured ‘good job’s and ‘you did good’s. Many of them were treating each other like kids, inspecting each other. Jojo was crying all over Albert, who was laughing.

“God, why you’s so worried about me?”   


“Because I CARE!” Jojo whined.

Jack cleared his throat. “Everyone, I’s proud of ya. We beat Queens, and they won’t be botherin’ ya guys any longer.”

HU: Spot had rounded up the Brooklyn newsies, who were all pretending to be tough, many of them fighting back tears. “Good job newsies,” Spot said to them. “You’s all did good. “

AH: Race suddenly heard sirens and he yelled, “Everyone, run!”

The newsies scattered and started to run in every direction.

HU: Spot limped into an alley, where he hid for a moment, watching all the newsies run. He didn’t see anyone get caught, and eventually, he limped to the Brooklyn bridge. He made it back to the lodging house around 7, as he had paused to rest many times, and it had taken him three hours to get back. It wasn’t dark quite yet, so Spot walked around the streets for a while, making sure none of his newsies were out in the dark. Around nine, it started to get dark, so Spot walked back to the lodging house, aching.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter we'll see some sprace


	10. Chapter 10

AH: Race’s left eye wasn’t doing him any good, since it was dark, and Race was just wandering around. He didn’t know where he was, and all he wanted to do was find someone to help him. He let his feet carry him wherever they pleased, leaving himself in the hands of the universe. At some point he heard water, and assumed that he was close to his lodging house. Race sighed, glad that he was close to his warm, soft, bed. But he kept walking, and didn’t hear anyone call his name. Where was he? Race got extremely anxious, the most he had ever been before.

HU: Spot heard someone outside, and looked out his small window. He saw a newsboy, wandering around aimlessly. His eyes took a second to adjust, but then he recognised the tall frame as Racetrack. He opened the little window. “Race!” He hissed. But Race didn’t hear him. “Racer!” He said, a little louder.

AH: Race froze in place. What was Spot doing in Manhattan? “Spottie? What’cha doing here in Manhattan? Shouldn’t ya be in Brooklyn?” Race called, in some direction.

HU: _‘Shit. He thinks he’s in ‘Hattan?’_ Spot thought as he leaned out the window. “How’d you get all the way ‘cross the Brooklyn Bridge without realizing it, Racer?” He hissed. “Stay there. I’s coming to get you,” he said, even though his body hurt like hell and was wildly protesting the action. He stood up, and, ignoring his aching leg, walked downstairs and out of the lodging house.

AH: Race decided to stay where he was, and he was nervous. He couldn’t see his hand in the darkness, and he waited for Spot to come. He whispered, “Spot, I’s here.”

HU: Spot heard Race whisper, and he felt his heart break a little. He placed an arm on Race’s shoulder, and he felt Race stiffin. “Racer. It’s me.”

AH: Race let out a relieved sigh. He wanted Spot to keep his hand on his shoulder forever and he--Race stopped the thought. “W-which way’s Manhattan?”

HU: “Racer,” Spot said, quiet and soft. “You’s ain’t going back to ‘Hattan tonight.” He pulled Race’s arm over one of his shoulders, steering them towards the lodging house.

AH: Race leaned against Spot, and he stumbled, quickly catching himself. He heard a door open and close, and the air grew warmer.

HU: Spot grabbed Race’s hand. “Stairs,” he muttered, pulling Race forward.

AH: Race lifted his foot up blindly, and successfully landed on the first step. He carefully made his way up the stairs.

HU: Spot lead him to the boy’s bedroom. He knew there was an extra bunk due to Sling’s absence, but he didn’t trust Race to sleep in a top bunk. He lead Race to his own room, and then closed the door.

AH: Race blinked a few times, the window letting in some light. He murmured, “Is this the boy’s room? It’s awfully quieter than ‘Hattan’s.”

HU: “Naw. This is my room. Used to be a closet. Big closet. Boys room is bigger, but too many people.”

AH: Race felt awkward all of a sudden. “Huh, interestin’.”

HU: Spot sat down on the ground, letting Race sit on the bed. “You’s okay, Race?”

AH: “Well, it was kinda difficult findin’ my way. My eye isn’t helpin’ much.” Race laughed.

HU: “Bet not,” Spot said, cringing. “Uh… Sling’s gone for good.”

AH: “What? Did he not come back?”

HU: “Naw… He… He was on the other side. Of the fight.”

AH: Race sat back. “Oh god. Did ya have ta fight him?”

HU: “...Yeah.”

AH: “Sorry about that, Spot. Who’s gonna be your right-hand man?” Race asked.

HU: “...I don’t know. Hadn’t thought about that. Prolly Dirt or Lick, they’s been with me longest. I dunno if I even need a second.”

AH: “That’s cool. You’s feels that you’re strong enough ta carry an entire group of newsies by yourself--that’s awesome.” Race grinned, even though he knew Spot couldn’t see him too well.

HU: Spot grinned, blushing. He tried to snap himself out of it, he didn’t even know why he was blushing. Race was his best friend, nothing more. “Thanks,” he said, looking down.

AH: “Yeah, of course. You’s my best friend. I’s never had someone ta just talk to.” Race said thoughtfully. He immediately regretted what he said, since his stomach got all tingly. Why was he like this?

HU: “Really? Not with all the boys in ‘Hattan?”

AH: “Nah, they’s like ta gossip. Jack’s a great pal, but he’s onta—“ Race stopped himself, realizing that he almost revealed the conversation he had with Jack last night. Race’s face flushed. “H-he thinks I’m not..hangin’ with the guys as much anymore.”

HU: “I’m mean…” Spot said, cracking a smile. “You’s ain’t, right?”

AH: “No.” Race murmured, a bit guiltily.

HU: Spot noticed Race’s tone of voice, and he climbed onto the bed with Race. “I’s gets it.”

AH: “What’d ya mean?” Race asked, feeling the bed cave next to him.

HU: “I’s means… Well, some of the boys thinks Slingshot has a point, ya know? Like, theys think i’s ain’t doin’ a good job of being a leader.” He looked down at his hands. “I dunno. Maybe they’s right.”

AH: Race turned to Spot. “Spottie, You’s a great leader. You’s made sure Brooklyn wasn’t ‘fraid of no Queens. Do ya know why you’s the most respected in all of New York? Huh? That’s ‘cause ya have the Brooklyn newsies respectin’ you! Ya have a great group of newsies under your leadership, and I’d say that’s a good leader.”

HU: Spot looked up at Race, almost crying. “Thanks Racer. That uh… That means a lot.”

AH: Race grinned. “‘Course it does. Don’t ya ever forget it.”

HU: Spot looked down at his hands, grinning. He looked out the window, saw how dark it was, and then looked back up. “Uh, you’s should prolly get some sleep… I have shirts ya can change into if ya want?”

AH: “Nah, I’m good. Thanks for the offer, though.” Race slid off the bed, and curled up.

HU: “Racer, you can sleep on the bed,” Spot said, standing up.

AH: “What? No! Ya need the bed the most.” Race retorted. “You’s hurtin’ right now. Your leg is bad and your body aches.”

HU: “Naw,” Spot said, pulling off his bloodstained shirt, and grabbing a new one. “I’s fine.”

AH: “You’s ain’t fine. Fine is word that covers up somethin’.”

HU: “Racer,” Spot said, pulling the shirt on over his bruises, wincing slightly. “I’ll be fine. You’s can’t see, i think that puts you worse.”

AH: Race sighed, standing up. “Then we’ll share it. It’s a win-win.”

HU: “Fine…” Spot said, as he changed into new pants, before taking off his hat, shoes, and socks. He shoved his bag under the bed, and then sat down on the bed.

AH: Race slipped off his shoes and hat, sliding them under the bed as well. He sat on the bed next to Spot.

HU: Spot laid down, before turning to Race. “Hey Racer?”

AH: “Yeah, Spottie?”

HU: “I’s really sorry you got hurt,” Spot said, looking directly at Race. “You’s weren’t- I mean, no one was supposed to get hurt.”

AH: Race smiled, laying down as well. “You’s weren’t supposed ta get hurt either, Spot. Ya don’t deserve it.”

HU: Spot fell silent, not knowing how to respond.

AH: Race bit his lip. “You’s too special ta get hurt.” He scooted closer to Spot and after a few seconds, pressed a kiss to Spot’s lips.

HU: It took Spot a second to realize what was happening, but he when he did, he kissed back, melting into the kiss.

AH: Race smiled, and put his hand on Spot’s face, still kissing him.

HU: After a few moments, Spot pulled back, and wrapped his arms around Race.

AH: Race did the same and hugged him.

HU: Spot was speechless.

AH: Race wasn’t really sure what to say. So he said what anyone else would say. “This is nice. Real nice.”

HU: “You means it, right? Like, it’s… It’s for real?”

AH: Race giggled. “Of course it is, Spottie.”

HU: “Okay,” Spot said, pulling back and smiling.

AH: “I’s always been thinkin’ it, just didn’t know what ta do with it.”

HU: “You’s has?” Spot asked, feeling a little guilty.

AH: “Yeah, kinda. I kinda put it off since I thought it was a best friend thing. But once I’s kissed you, it made all the difference.” Race said, blushing a little.

HU: Spot laughed a little, then straightened up. “This is illegal…”

AH: Race scratched the back of his neck. He didn’t really think that through. “...Yeah. Do you’s wanna commit to this?”

HU: “Yeah, but, you know we’s gotta keep this secret.”

AH: Race nodded. “I can do that. I’s won’t say anythin’. But Jack...I’s thinks he knows.”

HU: At this, Spot pulled back a little. “How?” he asked, worridley.

AH: Race groaned, rubbing his head. “It’s probably my fault. I’s terrible at lying. Uh, so last night, I’s came home all soaked. Jack asked why I was wet all over and I’s said I went swimming at Brooklyn. He keeps askin’ questions until I said I was swimmin’ with ya. And he says this, ‘Wait, are you and Spot..’ then he trails off and says, ‘Oh MY GOD, Race! Are you and Spot--?’ I cut him off and told him ta shut up. He said how it’s true, and I can’t hide it and I just ran away.”

HU: “Is he okay with it? Or are we gonna have a problem?”

AH: “I dunno. He seemed kinda excited. I’ll have ta see tomorrow.” Race shrugged.

HU: “Okay,” Spot said, a worried tone in his voice.

AH: “Hey, hey.” Race said, looking him in the eye. “You’s don’t worry. It’ll be okay. We’s can get through this together.”

HU: “Okay,” Spot said, not entirely convinced, but trusting Race.

AH: “C’mere.” Race snuggled next to Spot and wrapped his arms around him.

HU: Spot stiffened, but relaxed into Race.

AH: After a minute or two, Race dozed off.

HU: Spot drifted to sleep, mind going crazy, and body aching.


	11. Chapter 11

AH: Race blinked open his eyes, the sun shining in his face. He turned his head, seeing Spot. His left eye was better but still blurry. Race smiled, happy to be laying next to him. He listened carefully, trying to detect any sign of conscious newsies.

HU: Spot felt movement, and shut his eyes tighter, not wanting to wake up.

AH: Race heard nothing, to his relief, and relaxed into the mattress. Spot was asleep, and Race couldn’t help but think that he looked much more peaceful asleep. Race moved onto his side and just looked at Spot, hoping that he wouldn’t wake up and see Race staring at him.

HU: Spot felt someone move, after a second, he realized it was Race. He relaxed back into Race’s arms, ignoring the pain shooting up his body.

AH: Race saw Spot move slightly and he smiled. He suddenly remembered the fight yesterday, and how Spot was hurting. He whispered, “Spottie? You awake?”

HU:  _ ‘Shit,’ _ Spot thought, as he was forced to wake up. “Yeah,” he said, not opening his eyes.

AH: “Does your back hurt?” Race asked, lifting his arm off Spot.

HU: Spot nodded into Race’s shoulder. “Everything does,” he mumbled.

AH: “Aw, I’s sorry.” Race kissed Spot’s nose. “You’s rest up, today. Or else you’s won’t feels better soon.”

HU: “Naw,” Spot said, starting to get up. “I’s needs to sell.”

AH: Race gently pushed Spot back down again and raised an eyebrow. “If you’s move, I’s won’t come ta Sheepshead tomorrow. In fact, I’ll sell some papes for ya.”

HU: “No, you’s don’t need ta. You’s can’t see.” Spot said.

AH: “My eye’s better today. I’s can do it.” Race sat up and slid out of bed. 

HU: “Let me wake up the boys first?” Spot asked, hating the feeling of uselessness.

AH: “Alright. But then you’s getting back in bed.” Race put on his shoes, and slipped on his hat. “Should I’s leave first?”

HU: “Stay til they’re gone?” Spot pleaded.

AH: “Of course, Spottie.” Race grinned, sitting on the bed.

HU: Spot sat up, groaning, and opened the door to the boy’s bedroom, slipping out of his room and into the general room. “Up and at ‘em, gang,” Spot said, waking everyone up. “If ya got injuries too bad ta work, i’s will pay your stay for tha week.” 

AH: Race decided to leave the door open, so he hid behind the door facing the wall. He heard groans and complaints, and he held his breath.

HU: Everyone except for Spot went out to get their papers, and after the littles and the girls were woken up, Spot walked back into his room.

AH: Race wasn’t sure if it was Spot or a newsie, so he pressed his back against the wall, trying to be quiet as possible.

HU: “Just me, Racer,” Spot said, closing the door.

AH: Race breathed a sigh of relief. “Good, I didn’t want ta try ta explain myself.”

HU: “Yeah,” Spot said, before enveloping Race in a hug.

AH: Race hugged him back, then kissed him. “I’ll miss ya today.”

HU: “Wish ya wouldn’t go,” Spot said, slumping onto the bed.

AH: “Me too, Spot. I’ll come check up on ya later today. When are tha guys out?” Race asked, his hand on the door handle.

HU: “They’s all left by now,” Spot said, sinking into the bed. “But they won’t be gone from the circulation gate for another thirty minutes or so.”

AH: “Alright. I’s just have ta be sneaky then. See ya,” Race waved, and shut the door behind him. 

HU: “Bye,” Spot whispered, after the door closed.

AH: Jack was at the circulation gate, and he was worried. Very worried. Race didn’t come back from the fight, and he was sweating bullets. What would he do without Race? He was the best right-hand man anyone could ask for.

“Hey, Albert, any sign of Race?” Jack asked.

“No, no sign of ‘im.”

“Thanks anyway.” Jack went to go buy his papes and walked out of the circulation gate.

Race walked across the street, and saw the Brooklyn newsies buying their papes a block away. He started to walk quicker, praying they wouldn’t see him come from the lodging house.

HU: Spot watched Race leave out of his small window, and smiled to himself, before going to the small bathroom, to look at himself. He looked in the mirror for a second. He had a black eye, a split lip, and a cut on his cheek. He lifted his shirt, and saw bruises all over his stomach, more than a few of them bleeding. “Shit,” he murmured, before turning to the water pump. He grabbed a towel, pumped some water onto it, and cleaned himself up, before going the boy’s room and straightening up the beds. He hated the feeling of being useless.

AH: Race made it across the Brooklyn bridge, and saw the newsies out and about. Race took the longer route, in attempt to hide from them. He bought his papes then stood in an alleyway, trying to decide whether to go back to Brooklyn or sell here. Selling here was risky--he didn’t want to say where he was, and going back would require energy, which Race was drained of. He sighed, and headed back to Brooklyn.

HU: Spot walked to the girl’s bedroom, and cleaned up there, too, before walking back to his bedroom.

AH: Race sold his papes at Sheepshead, and once he handed off the last one, he looked over at the lodging house. Was anyone else there? It was past three, and that was usually the time where newsies hung out outside the lodging house. Race took his chances and walked to the lodging house, looking over his shoulder, and entering.

HU: Spot heard the door to the lodging house open, and sighed. He was in the boy’s general room, and he assumed it was a newsie coming in to have his lunch.

AH: Race was confronted by a the lodging house manager. “You’re that kid from last night. Why are you back again?”

“I’s come ta see a friend.” Race answered cooly.

“Sure.”

“Sure as I can be, sir.” Race grinned, putting in his cigar. He hadn’t used it since the fight, and he was restless.

“What’s your name?”   


“Racetrack Higgins, sir.”   


“...Alright. You can go in.”   


“Thanks, you’s a real pal.” Race entered the hallway and scratched his head. Where would Spot be? He should be in his room, but he doubted it.

HU: Spot heard someone ascending the stairs, but the person stopped. “You’s can come in,” Spot said, chuckling to himself.

AH: Race heard Spot, and he walked down the hall and poked his head in the common room. He grinned, seeing Spot. “Hiya, Spot.”

HU:  _ ‘Shit,’  _ Spot thought to himself. “Hey Race,” he said, turning around.

AH: Race frowned. “Why aren’t ya restin’?”

HU: “Don’t feel great about stayin’ in bed, i’s was bored. How was selling so far?”

AH: “Pretty good, I’s been avoidin’ the Manhattan newsies. Don’t want ta explain where I was. How long did ya stay in bed?” Race sat down in a chair.

HU: Spot avoided Race’s gaze. “Three minutes? You should talk to ya boys, Racer.”

AH: “You’s ain’t gonna get any better like that.” Race shook his head and sighed. “I should. I’s a bit jittery about it.”

HU: “Yeah. Go back to them, you’s got a lotta time before dark.”

AH: “Alright, it’s probably tha best thing ta do.” Race stood up, remembered that the man was still there and walked over to Spot. He whispered, “I’ll come by tonight if ya want.”

HU: “Naw, Race, you’s been walkin’ all day. Come by tomorrow, okay?”

AH: “Okay. See you, Spot.” Race gave Spot a quick hug and left.

HU: After Race left, Spot went to his bedroom, and counted the amount of money in the ‘general fund.’ There was $15, enough to buy almost anything the boys wanted. Spot grinned, feeling proud of all the money he had raised.

AH: Race carefully pushed open the lodging house door in Manhattan. He crept up the stairs, pushed open his bedroom door, and found the newsies huddled in a circle. They didn’t hear him come in, so Race stood there, listening.

“...when’s he gonna come back, Jack?”   


“I dunno.”   


“Maybe he died.”

“He didn’t die, Hotshot!”

“He couldn’t have.”   


“Maybe he got caught by Snyder.”   


“GOD, no.”   


“I can’t imagine if he did.”

“Guys, I’s right here.” Race said. The newsies turned, and they all rushed to greet him.

“Racer!”   


“WHY DID YOU LEAVE US?!”   


“Where’d ya go?”   


“QUIET!” Jack yelled. The newsies fell silent and looked over at Jack. “Racer, where were ya? We was worried.”   


“I’s got lost. I ended up in Brooklyn and the newsies let me stay the night.” Race said.

“Ah.” Jack was starting to put the pieces together. It all made sense now. But he was going to confront Race once he and Race were alone. “So you’s alright?”   


“Yeah, I’s okay.”

“Good.” Jack walked over to him and gave him a stiff hug and pulled away. “Alright, we’s gotta start sellin’ now!”

HU: Spot fell asleep before dark, before the newsies came back. Because of that, he didn’t see Slingshot enter the lodging house.

AH: Race collect a few coins from a regular, and he grinned, thanking them. He reached into his bag for another pape, and found that it was empty. He had successfully sold twice his usual amount of papes, and was glad he did. Race took the coins from Spot’s papers into his pocket, and his earnings into the bag. He walked back to the lodging house and was pulled aside by Jack.

“Hey, Race.”   


“Hey, Jack. How are ya? Is somethin’ wrong?” Race asked.

“Well, I dunno. See,” Jack lowered his voice and stood at the side of a building, “it’s about you and Spot.”   


Race put on his poker face, even though he was freaking out. “Yeah, so what of it?”   


“Are you’s with Spot?”   


Even though it crushed Race to say, he spoke. “Nah, not at all. Just friends.”

“Are ya sure? Ya seem ta be spendin’ a lotta time in Brooklyn.” Jack scratched his chin. “Not ta mention how ya were actin’ two nights ago. You were blushin’ and I’s sure it’s true. Now, I’m not against you and Spot. Not at all. I’s just want ta make sure you’re makin’ the right decision.”   


Race smiled. “I’s sure am. I’s really like Spot.” He whispered the last part and Jack grinned.    


“I knew it. C’mon, let’s head inside. And I won’t tell tha others.”    


“...Thanks.”

“No prob.”


	12. Chapter 12

HU: The next morning, Spot awoke. The lodging house was eerily quiet. When he went outside to the boys room, he saw someone standing in the middle of the room, talking in hushed voices to the newsies. It took Spot a second, but he recognized the figure as, “Sling?” he hissed, venomously. All eyes turned to Spot, including Sling. 

“Hiya Spot.” Sling said, cooly. 

“What. Are. You. Doing. Here?” Spot asked, harshly. 

“Is that any way to welcome back your second?” 

“You’re the worst goddamn second to ever exist.”

“Spot? What’s goin’ on?”

Spot walked forwards, to the boys. “Alright, boys. We’s got somethin’ to talk ‘bout. Our boy Sling? He was on the otha side of the fight. He’s the one who bruised my face up like this.” Spot gestured to his face. “And this.” He pulled his shirt up a little, to show the bruises and the blood. “He’s a traitor! He betrayed us, all ‘cause what? ‘Cause I wanted to have a little fun? Or ‘cause he thought one of my friends was queer? Guess what? He ain’t in no position to judge. We’s newsboys, below everyone else. Everyone is higher than us, and so we can’t judge no one else. But we can judge people like us, and if someone betrays us, they’s out. So don’t believe whatever bullcrap story he’s been tellin’ ya, ‘cause it ain’t true. And he ain’t the boss ‘round here. Now, if you’ll excuse us.” He grabbed Slingshot by the arm, and dragged him to his bedroom.    


“Slingshot, you’s out. It ain’t none of your business if my friend is queer.”

“He ain’t the only queer. Don’t think I don’t know that he was here two nights ago. You’s ain’t fit to be king.”   


“Naw Sling, you’s ain’t fit to be Brooklyn. You’s out. And you’s ain’t coming back. Get out.” Sling didn’t move, and Spot yelled, tears forming in his eyes. “Out, Sling!”

Sling stomped out, yelling one final insult. “You’s gonna be kicked out soon, queer!”

AH: Race moved across the bridge, and arrived at Sheepshead. He saw Slingshot storm out of the lodging house, and he was crossing the street towards Sheepshead. Race ran to the side of Sheepshead, and peeked out. He didn’t seem very happy, and Race wondered what had happened. 

HU: Spot walked back out to the general room, ignoring the stares from the other newsies. “Get to work, guys.” He watched them file out, and then woke up the girls and the littles. Then, he got changed, grabbed his bag, hat, and money, and stomped down to the circulation gate.

AH: Race saw Spot walk out and he waved. 

HU: Spot saw Race wave, and waved back, before buying his papers.

AH: Race continued selling and then saw Spot walk over. “Hey, how are ya?”

HU: “Fine,” Spot said, looking down at his feet.

AH: Race frowned. “Is it about Slingshot?”

HU: “Yeah… Kicked him out finally.”

AH: “Oh. That’s good, he won’t be doin’ any harm anymore.”

HU: “I guess,” Spot mumbled.

AH: “He was still your friend though. I’s sorry, Spot.” Race said, wanting to hug him but he knew that would raise suspicions. 

HU: “Yeah, thanks. Uh, how’d it go with the boys?”

AH: “Alright. They’s didn’t ask anything about me stayin’ in Brooklyn. Jack asked if you’s and I are, ya know, and he said that it ain’t bad. I told him, and he’s fine with it. He said he won’t say nothin’ ta the guys.” Race bit his lip, hoping that Spot would understand.

HU: “Okay, that’s good, i guess.”

AH: “Yeah. Uhm, does anyone in Brooklyn know?”

HU: Spot shook his head. “I mean, Slingshot, but he ain’t Brooklyn no more.”

AH: “That makes sense. Like, that he knows since he’s the one who started the whole thing.”

HU: “Yeah,” Spot said. They were starting to attract weird looks from other newsboys. “We should prolly get selling.”

AH: “I’s agree with ya.” Race nodded and quickly distanced himself from Spot, and went back to selling his papes.

HU: At around noon, Spot walked to the nearest cafe, and ordered a sandwich.

AH: Race was sitting in a cafe, and saw Spot enter. He rubbed his cigar and with the other hand he gave a small wave.

HU: Spot saw Race and grinned, before going to sit by him.

AH: Race pulled out an empty chair for him and he grinned. “Nice seein’ ya again. Are ya feelin’ any better?”

HU: “Than this morning? Naw, but it’s fine.”

AH: “God, I’m sorry, Spot.” Race said, looking at Spot. 

HU: “It’ll be fine. How’s the eye?”

AH: “Better, I can sees more.”

HU: “That’s good,” Spot said.

AH: “Yeah.” A waiter came over with two sandwiches in hand and he looked at the two of them. His eyes bounced from Race, then to Spot, Race, Spot, and then Race again.

Race decided to say something. “Afternoon, again, sir.”   


“...Afternoon. Um, here’s your sandwich.” He handed a sandwich to Race and the other one to Spot.

HU: “Thanks,” Spot said, taking his sandwich. The waiter left, and Spot bit into his sandwich.

AH: Race swallowed a piece of his sandwich and whispered with a grin, “I prefer Jacobi’s.”

HU: “Definitely,” Spot said, grinning.

AH: Race laughed, and continued eating his sandwich. 

HU: Once Spot was done with his sandwich, he stood up. “I should get back to selling.”

AH: “Yep. See you later? Maybe after selling?” Race stood up, brushing off his pants.

HU: “Sure, wanna come to the lodging house later? Or I could meet ya near ‘Hattan?”

AH: “I’ll come, don’t want ya walkin’ with ya hurtin’.” Race waved and went back to Sheepshead.

HU: Spot waved, and walked back to his selling spot. That evening, he waited outside the lodging house for Race.

AH: Race turned a corner and saw the lodging house. He saw a figure standing by the entrance, and Race knew that it was Spot. He grinned and walked over to him.

HU: “Hey,” Spot said, smiling.

AH: “How are ya?” Race asked, leaning against the wall.

HU: “Okay, you?” Spot asked.

AH: “Pretty good. How’s Brooklyn reactin’ ta Slingshot leavin’?”

HU: “Dunno,” Spot mused. “Didn’t stay for the reaction.”

AH: “Oh. I bet they’s shocked. Hopefully they’s agree with ya.”

HU: “Hopefully. I just don’t get how Sling thinks he’s in a position to judge us.”

AH: “Yeah, he has no right ta be throwin’ ‘round stuff like that.” Race sighed, shaking his head. “He’s better off somewhere else.”

HU: “Yeah,” Spot said, looking down.

AH: “...Do you wanna talk about it?” Race asked, trying to comfort him.

HU: “Naw, I’ll be fine. But…. Thanks for offering.

AH: “Yeah, no problem, Spottie.” Race smiled.

HU: There was a shout from inside, and Spot stiffened up.”You’s gotta go! Curfew!”

AH: “Oh, shoot! See ya!” Race turned around and bolted towards Manhattan.

HU: Spot grinned as he watched Race run away. Then, he walked into the lodging house to his room.


	13. Chapter 13

AH: A month passed, and Spot and Race grew closer, and the newsies of both cities grew more and more suspicious. But then one day, that problem wasn’t the only one that they had to deal with. Pulitzer, the owner of the World, had hiked up prices to 60 cents per hundred papes. No newsie could afford that, so Jack declared a strike. 

Race and the Manhattan newsies were gathered in Jacobi’s, discussing what to do next. Davey seemed to be the only one who knew what to do.

“We need to spread the word, let every city know that we’re on strike.” Davey nodded and Jack stood up.

“Ya heard ‘im, let’s spread the word!” The newsies nodded in agreement.   


“I’ll take Harlem.”

“I’ve got the Bronx!”   


“I’ll take Queens!”

“I’ll get Eastside!”   


Race realized that he had to pick a city quick, so he blurted the first city that came to mind. “I’s got Brooklyn!”   


The newsies looked at Race, shocked. 

“You’s want ta go ta Brooklyn?” Mush asked. “Really?”   


“Aren’t ya scared?” Finch said.

“Nah, I can take it.” Race shook his head.

Romeo scrunched up his nose. “Why?”

“‘Cause I ain’t scared of no turf.”

“Guys, stop pesterin’ him.” Jack cut in. “He wants Brooklyn, that’s all there’s to it. Alright, I’ll take midtown, let’s go!”

HU: Spot was down by Sheepshead, when he saw Race.

AH: Race ran over to him, and stopped, leaning over his legs. “Huff...huff...Spottie...there’s this...we’s on strike...Pulitzer’s raised prices…”

HU: Spot smirked at Race. “Racer, ya good? Slow down.”

AH: Race took a few moments to catch his breath. “Spottie, Pulitzer’s hiked up prices! 60 cents per hundred papes! That didn’t settle with us, so’s we’s on strike! We’s need ya ta join us! If you join us, then the rest will!”

HU: Spot looked down at his feet, shamefully. “Racer-” he cut himself short. “I’s sorry. I can’t join ya.”

AH: Race dropped his arms. “What? Why not?”

HU: Spot saw the pain in Race’s eyes, and almost caved. Almost. “Racer, I’s just got the trust back from my boys. We’s all just healed from the fight. Not just physically. I’s can’t lead them into this. The risk is too high. I don’t know if I trust out odds.”

AH: Race didn’t know what to say, or even do. He was hurt, but he knew that was the right thing to do. 

“No, I’s get it. I-I’m just going to leave now.” Race turned around and started to walk back.

HU: “I’s sorry,” Spot said, almost too quiet to hear.

AH: Race heard Spot’s faint voice and he said, “It’s what ya have ta do.” He continued to walk away and turned a corner.

HU: Spot sold the boycotted papers for the rest of the day, and the next. But, two days after the strike started, the headlines read “Newsies Stop the World” The paper included a picture of the Manhattan newsies. Spot bought one paper, and read the article. It included details about the strike, and the very end of the paper mentioned that newsies had been hurt, and one had been arrested. Spot’s breath hitched, and he shoved the paper into his bag. Then, he broke into a run, heading for Manhattan.

AH: Race was sitting on his bed, cradling his broken arm. “Those Delancy’s are gonna get what’s comin’ ta them.” He hissed to himself. “I’s swear. I’ll do it for Jack, and for Crutchie.” He stopped and bit his lip. Crutchie was captured and taken to the refuge, and Jack hasn’t returned yet. There was no sign of him. The newsies were all counting on him to support them, and Race didn’t know if he could.

HU: Spot ran into the Manhattan lodging house, past Kloppman, straight to the boy’s room. “Kelly?” he called.

AH: Race heard Spot, and he stood up. He opened the door and called down the stairs, “Kelly ain’t here. He hasn’t been back since last night.”

HU: Spot heard Race’s familiar voice, and ran into the room. “Holy shit, Race. I-I was so worried!”

AH: Race used his good arm, his right arm, to hug Spot. “Everyone’s fine, no one died, just injuries. ‘Cept for Crutch. He got captured by Snyder, I don’t even know where Jack is.”

HU: “Shit,” Spot said, covering his mouth. “Are you’s okay?”

AH: “Yeah, yeah. Those Delancy’s soaked us real good. I’s got outta it with only a broken arm, so’s I’s says that’s a win.”

HU: “Oh my god, Race. I-I’s so sorry.”

AH: Race pulled away. “It’ll heal. I’s honestly think we’s got ‘em, though! Why else would they’s send their scabs and the bulls?”

HU: “Yeah,” Spot said, quietly. “You’s did good.”

AH: Race practically melted when he said that. He leaned in and kissed Spot.

HU: Spot leaned in for a second, and then pulled back. “Sorry I’s wasn’t there for ya.”

AH: “It’s alright. You’s here now, aren’t ya?” Race smiled.

HU: “Yeah. I’s with ya for the rest of the strike, okay? And you’s can tell Kelly that, too.”

AH: “I will. Thanks for joinin’.” 

HU: “Yeah,” Spot said, standing up. “See ya soon, okay? And send a messenger to Brooklyn if ya have anything new goin’ on.”

AH: “We will. See ya.” Race grinned and waved to Spot as he left.

HU: Spot waved back, trying to fight down the unease as he walked back to Brooklyn.

AH: The next night, Manhattan hosted a meeting for every newsie to come. They all gathered in Miss Medda’s theatre, and she seemed very excited about the whole thing.

“Welcome, to  _ your _ revolution!!” Miss Medda said and the newsies cheered. Race clapped and nudged Spot. “You should go say some words, eh?”

HU: Spot shook his head, nervous.

AH: “Aw, c’mon. You’s the Brooklyn leader! They’s all here ‘cause you’re in this!”

HU: “Fine,” Spot said, and walked up to the stage. “Newsies united!” he shouted. The newsies cheered. “Let’s see what Pulitzer’s gotta say to ya know!” They cheered, and Spot gestured to Davey, who stepped up reluctantly.

AH: “Look at what we’ve done! We have every newsie from every pape and neighborhood here with us tonight! Tonight, we’re making history!” The newsies erupted in cheers, and Davey spoke again. “We’re done being treated like kids. From now on, we’ll be treated as equals!”   


Suddenly, a voice was heard behind Race. “Stop runnin’ your mouth if you wanna be talked to like an adult. Start actin’ like one.” Jack walked up the aisle, and Race was so glad that he was alive.

“And here’s Jack!” Davey gestured to him and the newsies clapped.

HU: Jack gave his speech, and it was quickly apparent that he wasn’t loyal. Spot couldn’t contain his anger. He walked forward and pushed Jack. “You little coward!” He yelled,  tears burning up in his eyes.

AH: Race watched Jack who looked confused and hurt. He deserved it. If he was never going to go through with it, was it even worth all the injuries that the newsies had? Did he even have a sliver of sympathy? Race shook his head, turned around, and stormed out of the theatre.

HU: Spot glared at Jack’s retreating back, and walked out of the theatre, angrily.  _ ‘God damnit, Jack,”  _ Spot thought, as he left the building.

AH: Race went to a place where it would be deserted at night, where no one else came. Race stepped into the alleyway, and was reminded that it was where he met Spot for the first time. He climbed up the ladder, and stood on the rooftop, looking at the stars. “How could ya do this ta us, Jack?” Race whispered to himself.

HU: Spot slumped against the theatre, wiping the angry tears off his face.

AH: Race sucked in his breath, and tried his best to relax. He loosened his muscles and let the summer wind ruffle his clothes. Race took off his hat, and sighed.  _ What was in it, for Jack? What could possibly make him betray us? _

HU: Spot watched newsies file out of the theatre, yelling. Some were visibly crying, and others were stomping away.  _ ‘I hope Jack sees them. I hope he sees what he’s caused.’ _

AH: Race finally let the tears flow, and he was glad that no one could hear him. He couldn’t let any newsie that he was breaking down.

“Hey, Race.”   


Race spun around, wiping his eyes. He saw Katherine, the reporter who wrote the news article for the newsies. “W-what are you doing here?”

“I came because I know that Jack comes here to think. Do you come up here as well?” She asked.

Race laughed. “Why would ya see me up here then? ‘Course I come up here. Didn’t know that he came up too.”

“Well, he does. Specs told me about this place, and I thought maybe there’s a reason why Jack caved for the money.” Katherine walked over to an area that was cluttered with junk. “Any of this stuff yours?”   


“No, nothin’s not mine.” Race shook his head. “I just left this stuff here.”

“Have you gone through this stuff?”   


“What? Why’s you’s askin’ me questions?”

“I’m asking, because I want to know what all this...this stuff is!” Katherine started to dig around, and picked up a piece of paper. She gasped. “Race, come over here!”

Race walked over, and looked at the paper. He took out his cigar, in awe. It was a drawing of the refuge, Race presumed. The drawing featured a bunk bed with three boys in to it, and rats were scurrying around the legs of the bed. Mildew and dirt was all over the walls and floor.

“T-that’s the refuge. “ Race whispered.

“This is awful!” Katherine said, and suddenly they heard someone coming up the ladder. Race looked over his shoulder, and saw Jack’s hat bobbing up. Race ran over to another ladder and swiftly escaped. He didn’t want to confront Jack--he bet those drawings were his.

HU: Spot walked the dark streets, back to Brooklyn.

AH: Race hopped off the ladder, and ran back to the lodging house. He flopped onto his bed and after a few minutes of tossing and turning, he fell asleep.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter!

HU: The next morning, Spot walked over to Manhattan.

AH: When Race woke up, he found his room empty. He got up, and walked down to the common room. The newsies were there, and Jack seemed...peppier than usual.

He was laughing a lot, and had this weird gleam in his eyes. It bothered Race, mainly because Jack just woke up. Jack usually looked like, and sounded like, an old man in the morning.

After an interrogation that the newsies had took place in that room, they all knew that Jack kissed Katherine last night. Not the best couple, Race thought, since Crutchie always seemed to be attached to Jack 24/7.

HU: Spot filed into the Manhattan lodging house. “What the Hell, Kelly?” He asked, angrily,

AH: Jack turned his head. “Conlon.”

HU: Spot stomped forward, angrily, fists bunched. “What the fuck was that, last night?”

AH: “Look, I’s sorry, but I’s has a plan that will turn things around. We’s gonna print this one last pape, and send it out to all the newsies. Hear me out?” Jack asked.

HU: “Fine,” Spot said, falling silent.

AH: “Look, this was Katherine’s idea--she’s the reporter who wrote the newspaper article. So we’s gonna have all the workers under 21 go ta Newsie Square, and strike there. No one will go ta work, and it won’t just be about the newsies anymore. We’s challengin’ every worker in every sweatshop and factory. What’dya think?” Jack grinned.

HU: Spot had to admit, it was a pretty good idea. “Sounds good, Kelly. But you’d better not pull anymore of that shit you pulled yesterday, okay?”

AH: “I won’t, I swear. Can you’s ‘round up your boys and meet us at Newsie Square?” Jack asked, walking out.

HU: “Sure thing,” Spot said. He spotted Race, and walked across the room.

AH: Race laughed. “I’s sure Planter would be interested. You’s can talk to her at Newsie Square!”   


Romeo beamed. “I will!”   


“Remember everythin’ I told ya, ‘kay?”   


“Sure will, Racer! Thanks!” Romeo grinned and left. Race saw Spot walking over to him and Race smiled. “Hey, Spot!”

HU: “Hey Race,” Spot said, grinning.

AH: Race grinned and whispered into Spot’s ear, “If bein’ gay was legal, I would kiss ya right here.”

HU: “Race!” Spot hissed.

AH: Race straightened up and grinned. “I’s know you’s were thinkin’ it too.”

HU: Spot blushed. “Shaddup.”

AH: Race chuckled. “Alright, let’s head out.”

HU: “Alright,” Spot said, standing up and walking out.

AH: The newsies walked out together and Jack walked over to Spot. “You gonna go talk to your boys?”

HU: “Yeah, we’ll be back soon,” Spot said, starting to walk back to Brooklyn.

AH: Race waved to him and Jack pulled out stacks of paper. “Kath and I printed these last night. I’s want you and the others to give these to every worker ya know, everyone, okay?”    


Race nodded and saluted Jack. “You can count on us!”   


Jack laughed. “Alright, get ta work.”

Once all the newsies had given the papes to all the workers, they all met up in Newsie Square.

HU: Spot ran to Brooklyn, and instucted the newsboys to follow him back to Manhattan. On the way, they grabbed every child worker they saw, bringing them to Manhattan with them.

AH: Race saw Spot leading a huge groups of kids, twice the size of Brooklyn’s newsies. Jack grinned. “Nice work, Conlon!”

HU: “Damn straight,” Spot said, grinning.

AH: Jack and Race turned to see more people coming, even adults were joining. 

“Woah!” Mush gasped. “We’s got adults!”

HU: “I’s think we’s got everyone,” Spot said, waving at the groups of people.

AH: “Yeah.” Race nodded.

“Hey, Davey and I are gonna go talk to Pulitzer.” Jack said, and Davey nodded. 

“We’re going to see what Pulitzer is going to do next. He’s backed into a corner, he can’t do anything else.” Davey grinned.

“Okay, don’t go betrayin’ us again, Jack.” Race raised an eyebrow.

“I won’t. Spot, you wanna come?” Jack asked.

HU: Spot nodded, and wordlessly followed Davey and Jack into the elegant building.

AH: Race stuck his cigar into his mouth and saw Romeo flirting with Planter. It seemed to be working, to Race’s relief.

HU: They walked to the giant hallway, where a red-headed lady let them into Pulitzer’s office.

AH: Race started to talk to the workers that came.

HU: “Morning gents!” Jack said, running into the office. 

AH: Pulitzer stood up and hissed, “You can’t just barge in here!”

HU: “How’re ya doin’ today?” Jack asked, grinning.

AH: “What do you want, Kelly?”

HU: “Just wanted to tell you that we wrote a paper for ya! I think you might enjoy it.” Jack gestured to the Newsies Banner, which Spot handed Pulitzer a copy of.

AH: Pulitzer give it a quick once over and scowled. Hannah has her own copy and she nodded. “These kids put out a pretty good paper, sir! Very convincing!”

HU: Pulitzer glared at her, then back at the paper. “No doubt written by my daughter.” 

Jack beamed. “Oh she’s good. I would sign her before someone else does.”

AH: “I declare to know who went against my ban on strike news!” Pulitzer gave a hard stare to all of his employees.

HU: Spot snorted, and Jack grinned. “Oh, we’re your loyal employes! We would never take our business elsewhere!”

AH: Pulitzer started to walk over to Jack. “I made you the offer of a lifetime! A fool would turn it down!”

HU: Davey stepped up. “What’s that make you, then? This all began because you wanted to sell more papers. Now your circulation is down, 70 percent. Why didn’t you just come talk to us?”

AH: Pulitzer sighed and Jack spoke. “Ya see Davey, people like old man Pulitzer don’t speak ta nobodies like us. We’s got ya surrounded. Look around.”

Pulitzer looked out the window of his office and saw thousands of people in the square. He bristled.  _ How did these people believe those kids? _

HU: Spot soke up. “New York is closed for business. Paralyzed. You can’t get a paper or a shoe shine. You can’t send a message or ride an elevator or cross the Brooklyn Bridge. You can’t even leave your building. So what’s your next move?”

AH: Pulitzer was about to speak when Bunsen, his assistant, rushed up to him. “Mr. Pulitzer sir, your daughter is here, and you won’t believe who else!”

HU: Spot looked behind him, and the door opened. Katherine walked in, along with a tall woman in a pink jacket. After a few moments, someone else came in. Spot’s mouth fell open. It was Theodore Roosevelt.

AH: Roosevelt shook his head, and looked right at Pulitzer. “Joseph, Joseph, Joseph. What have you done now?”

“Sir,” Pulitzer started, “I’m sure that once you hear my explanation--”

“No need. I already have a firm grasp on the situation--graphic illustrations included.” Theodore turned to Jack. “How are you, son? I’m told we once shared a carriage ride!”

HU: Jack’s eyes widened. He and the Governer shook hands. “Pleasure’s mine, Mr. Governor.”

AH: Roosevelt smiled and pulled his hand away and turned to Joe. “Well Mr. Pulitzer, give the children the good news.”   


“Good news?” Pulitzer asked.

“Yes, that you’ve come to your senses and rolled back prices. Unless, of course, you want to invite a full senate investigation into your employment practices.” Roosevelt raised an eyebrow.

“You wouldn’t!” Pulitzer hissed.

“After all the pressure you wielded to keep me from office? I’d do it with a smile! Think of the happiness you’ll bring those children!”

Pulitzer straightened his posture. “Mr. Kelly...if I could speak to you. Alone.”

HU: Spot grinned and patted Jack on the back. “Crush him.”

AH: Once everyone had filed out, Pulitzer spoke. “I’m sorry, Kelly. I can’t roll back prices.”

HU: Jack grinned. “No, I get it. You’s gotta save face in front of these other guys. I’s young, I ain’t stupid.”

AH: “Thank you for understanding…”

HU: “But I got constituents with a legitament gripe!”

AH: “What if I reduce the price by half and get the others to do the same? It’s a compromise we can all live with.” Pulitzer suggested.

HU: “But, you eat our losses. Any papers we can’t sell, you buy back, full price.”

AH: “That was never on the table!” Pulitzer hissed.

HU:  “Listen, no newsie is gonna go around buying papes they can’t sell. But if they could buy a few extra, without risk, they might just sell those, and then your circulation will begin to grow!”

AH: Pulitzer rubbed his beard and looked at Jack. “That’s not a bad head you’ve got on your shoulders, kid.”

HU: “So we’s got a deal?”

AH: “Fine.” Pulitzer shook Jack’s hand.

HU: Jack grinned, and they walked outside.

AH: Race rushed up to them. “Hey, what’d Pulitzer say?”

HU: “We won!” Spot said, hushedly. Jack walked to the front of the group. 

“Newsies of New York City! We won!” The newsies started to cheer.

AH: Race cheered, and waved his hat around like the rest of the newsies. “WOO!”

HU: The newsies cheered and yelled, and Jack gave a speech.

AH: Once Jack had finished speaking, they heard a voice.

“Hey guys, didja miss me?” Crutchie popped out of nowhere, and he grinned. Jack rushed over to him and hugged him. 

“You’re okay!”   


“Of course I’m okay!” Crutchie laughed.

HU: Spot grinned at the reunion. Then, he turned to Race, grinning. “We won! I can’t believe it!”

AH: “I know! The newsies’s goin’ ta celebrate tonight, I bet!” Race grinned.

HU: “Damn straight. Brooklyn’s staying in ‘Hattan for tonight.” Spot said, grinning.

AH: “Let’s head over ta Jacobi’s!” Race suggested.

HU: “Alright,” Spot said, grinning. 

AH: They walked over to Jacobi’s and the little bell rang. Jacobi turned around and smiled. “Hey, boys.”   


“Hiya, Jacobi.” Race grinned. “We won!”   


“That’s great, kids!” Jacobi led them to a table. “What would you boys like?”

HU: “Anything ya got,” Spot said, grinning.

AH: “Sure thing. And for--?” Jacobi was cut off by Race.

“Same as Spot.”   


“Okay! I’ll get those started.” Jacobi nodded and left.

HU: A few minutes later, Jacobi came back, with two giant sandwiches. Spot pulled out money to pay, but Jacobi shook his head. “On the house. Enjoy your meal, boys.”

AH: “Thanks, Jacobi.” Race smiled and he nodded and walked to another table. Race bit into his sandwich.

HU: Spot grabbed his sandwich, and started to dig in. “How’s the arm?”

AH: “Okay, still hurts.” Race shrugged.

HU: “I’ll bet,” Spot said.

AH: “Yeah.” Race continued to eat his sandwich, in deep thought about him and Spot.

HU: “You okay?” Spot asked, putting down his sandwich.

AH: “Oh, yeah. I’m good! Just happy.” Race smiled.

HU: “Alright,” Spot said, grinning.

AH: Race finished his sandwich and sighed. “Man, I don’t think anyone can top Jacobi’s sandwiches.”

HU: “They’re flawless,” Spot said, taking his final bite.

AH: Race stood up and stretched. “Where ta next?”

HU: “Whereva ya wanna go, i got no preference.”

AH: “Um, there’s this cool rooftop. It’s real nice, ya can see the whole city from up there.”

HU: “Alright?”  Spot said, standing up.

AH: Race led him out out of Jacobi’s and started to walk down the street. 

HU: Spot followed Race, excited.

AH: “Guess where it is.” Race said, grinning.

HU: “The theatre?”

AH: “Nope. Guess again.”

HU: Spot hesitated for a second, thinking. “Lodging house?”

AH: “Nah.” Race grinned, shaking his head.

HU: “Where?”

AH: “Right here.” Race turned and faced the alleyway. “Ya remember?”

HU: “Is this where we met?”

AH: “Yep.” Race said. “I’s didn’t expect ta meet the king of Brooklyn.”

HU: Spot grinned. “You’s so sappy.”

AH: “I’s can be when I want ta.” Race gestured to the ladder and he started up it.

HU: “You sure that’s a good idea with only one arm?” Spot asked, concerned.

AH: “I’s been buildin’ up my right arms strength, I’ll be okay.” Race said, pulling himself up to the roof.

HU: “Sure,” Spot said, before climbing the ladder.

AH: Race stood on the middle of the roof and put a hand over his eyes. The setting sun was shining in his face, and he grinned.

HU: Spot crawled up to the top, and walked to the edge, where Race was.

AH: “Ain’t it nice up here?” Race said.

HU: “Yeah, it’s real pretty.”

AH: “...I’s come up here a lot just ta think. Do ya have a place ta go ta?”

HU: “Naw. I’s don’t really get a lotta time ta think. Sometimes i’ll go to the roof of my lodging house, but not too often.”

AH: “Yeah, that makes sense.”

HU: “Yeah,” Spot said, dangling his legs off the rooftop.

AH: Race sat down as well, and let his legs hang off the roof.

HU: They sat in silence for a while, watching the sun set.

AH: Soon the sun set, and the stars were beginning to show. “Hey, we’s gotta get movin’.”

HU: “Yeah. See you’s tomorrow?” Spot asked, starting to descend the latter.

AH: “Definitely.” Race climbed down, waved and walked off to the lodging house. His head was buzzing with thoughts, and he had already made a decision.

HU: Spot waved, and started the long walk back to Brooklyn. Once he made it back, he climbed onto the fire escape and up to the rooftop. He lay down on the ground, looking up at the night sky.

AH: Race arrived at the lodging house, and went up to his room, ignoring the whining calls from the newsies. He shut the door behind him, and started to wait until the time was appropriate. 

HU: Spot eventually fell asleep, thinking about Race.

AH: Race laid in his bed until all the newsies were asleep. He slipped out of bed, and the floorboard creaked. He paused, and waited. Nothing stirred, so Race continued down the stairs and out of the lodging house. He jogged down the sidewalk and headed across the Brooklyn bridge.

HU: Spot shifted in his sleep, completely oblivious to the world around him.

AH: Race saw the lodging house, and then a figure on the roof. He squinted, and recognized the shadow as Spot. He grinned, and headed over to the fire escape. Race climbed up and squatted down. He nudged Spot with his finger.

HU: Spot felt something touch him, and jolted awake. His vision cleared, and he saw Race. “Race?” He asked, looking up. “What are you doing here?”

AH: Race grinned. “I could ask ya the same question.”

HU: Spot smirked, sitting up. “I live here.” He gestured to the rooftop.”I live here.”

AH: “I should ask ya another question then, huh?” Race sat down.

HU: “Mhm,” Spot said, scooching over to sit next to Race.

AH: “So…” Race laughed. “Excuse my sappiness, but…Ev’a since I met ya, Spot, I’s been thinkin’ ‘bout you all the time. You’s in my head all the time, and I can’t get ya out. Look, I’s suck at bein’ sweet, but, so ya know how we kissed?”

HU: Spot blushed, thankful that it was dark so Race couldn’t see his face. “Yeah? What of it?”

AH: “What I’m tryin’ ta say is, well…” Race stood up and gave a crooked smile. “Do ya wanna be my boyfriend? Face tha officials and be by each others side?”

HU: “Really?” Spot asked, beaming. “Yeah, I mean. Of course!”

AH: Race grinned, his heart swelling. He reached over and hugged Spot.

HU: “Racer,” Spot said, grinning. “We’s past that.”

AH: “Then kiss me, ya dork.” 

HU: Spot smiled like an idiot, and then leaned over and pressed his lips to Race’s.

AH: Race kissed him back, and held Spot’s face with his hands, feeling like he could float away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this has been a ride. Thank y'all for reading. We'll prolly be back with another RP eventually. And I'll edit this eventually. But thanks for reading!  
> ~TotallyNot


End file.
